


Tremors

by Lise



Series: Remember This Cold [72]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But Still Pretty Intense, Coughing, Delirium, Established Relationship, Fever, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Illness, Sickfic, Somewhat Less Than Graphic Depictions of Illness, Steve's very stressed right now, celebrating seven years of this verse with a return to my roots, what's a plot I don't know those, which is to say: making Loki suffer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: Some part of him thought darkly that Loki didn’t do anything by halves; why would his being sick be any different?Loki comes down with something. As usual, it's fine, until it isn't.





	Tremors

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a sickfic for Steve, I needed to write one for Loki? Actually I think this was a prompt from an anon about Loki getting sick and having, you know, actual friends to help take care of him, and then I went...uh, hard left on that, and wound up with this. I went through a lot of wrangling and doubt getting here, but I think I'm more or less happy with the final shape of it.
> 
> More to the point - happy syttende mai, which is both the Norwegian Constitution Day and also Remember This Cold Day, aka the seventh anniversary of my posting "I heard you killed your only friend last year" in 2012. Seven goddamn years. Seven goddamn fucking years. Unbelievable. 
> 
> To all of you who have been on this ride from the beginning, who have picked it up in the last week, who clicked on this fic and don't have any idea what I'm talking about: thank you. You make it worth it.
> 
> Special thanks to [Echo](http://loxxxlay.tumblr.com), who gave me an early read and reassured me that it _wasn't_ a total mess, and, as always, to [Amelia](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), the Steve to my Loki, without whom this verse would very literally not exist. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com). I do accept birthday cake.

Steve happened to be outside when the meteor came blazing through the atmosphere and ploughed into the ground, though all he saw was a flash of light in the sky and a moment later a dull _boom_ that shook the ground under his feet. He ran back to the compound, alarmed, thinking of an attack, thinking _is this Thanos moving on us now–_

He ran into Sam first, who held up his hands and said, “whoa there. Meteor came down. That’s all.” 

Steve skidded to a halt. “Are you sure?” he said, panic not abating. Sam raised his eyebrows.

“You doubting T’Challa’s genius baby sister? You can go tell her that if you want.” 

The adrenaline started to drain out of him. Slowly. He exhaled, leaving his lungs empty for a few seconds before inhaling again. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He gave Sam a sheepish smile that he didn’t really feel, not yet. “Sorry.” 

“What’re you apologizing for?” Sam said. “I guarantee you weren’t the only one with that reaction. I just happened to be talking with T’Challa and Shuri told him.” 

“So does everyone else,” Steve started to say, his eyes widening as he thought of Loki. If _Steve_ had panicked…

“Yeah. Heads up went out.” Sam gave Steve a crooked smile of his own. “Your husband might’ve had a minute to freak out, but that’s all.” 

“That’s long enough,” Steve said. “I’d better…” He waved a hand.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Sam said. “I’m going to see if I can get a look at my first real life meteorite.” 

“You might bring Buck with you,” Steve said. “He always liked space stuff.” 

Sam shot him a narrow-eyed look like he suspected Steve was getting at something, then shook his head and rolled his eyes when Steve just blinked innocently at him. He muttered something under his breath and moved on by him with a bit of a shoulder check.

Steve went looking for Loki. 

He found him standing on the balcony looking out, and he might have passed for relaxed if it weren’t for his fists clenched white-knuckled around the railing. 

“You all right?” Steve asked.

“Yes,” Loki said tightly. Steve exhaled, and after a moment Loki said, “I am now. It was only a harmless piece of space debris.” 

“I thought it might be something else.”

Loki exhaled slowly, and turned. “So did I,” he said. There was tension around his eyes and his skin was a couple shades too pale. Steve moved forward and hugged him, taking a deep breath of his own. The loss of adrenaline left him feeling tired. 

“I’ve never seen a meteor impact before,” Steve said. “Have you?” 

“Once or twice,” Loki said. “A couple millennia ago one nearly obliterated Alfheim. I didn’t actually _see_ that one.” 

Steve winced. He said it so _casually,_ and Steve pictured Alfheim as he’d seen it not so long ago. It hadn’t seemed like an apocalyptic wasteland. Apparently the look on his face communicated something, because Loki added, “they managed to divert it.”

“Divert it,” Steve said. He decided to ask about that later. “Do you want to go see this one?” 

Loki shrugged. “It’s a piece of rock from space,” he said. “Relieved though I am that that is all it is...it’s a bit less thrilling to me than it is to you.” He raised his eyebrows. “Though given you’ve now stood on several different Realms, I might think…”

Steve shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “Still exciting.”

* * *

The meteorite looked mostly like a bubbly chunk of rock. Steve couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, but Bucky didn’t seem to be. 

“Do you know where it came from?” He asked Shuri. 

“Probably the asteroid belt,” Shuri said, running a scanner over the surface. “That’s where most of them come from.” She glanced up. “Our legends say that vibranium came to us from a meteor that struck the Earth.” 

“Did it?” Bucky asked. 

Shuri paused with a slight frown, then shook her head. “I think no,” she said. “If that were the extent of it, we would have run out by now. It would have to have been an enormous impact to generate the amount of vibranium in Wakanda, and there would be signs of something like that.”

“What if someone _brought_ it here from space,” Bucky said, sounding a little eager. “Now we know that there are people out there–”

Shuri gave him a narrow-eyed look. “And stuck it in mines in the ground?” She said. “Don’t be silly.”

Bucky looked a little disappointed. 

“So what are you going to do with it?” Steve asked. 

“Analyze it,” Shuri said promptly. “See what I can learn from it. What else?” 

“Put it in a museum?”

Shuri shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe Doctor Foster will want to look at it, though astronomical objects aren’t _really_ her field. Or I’ll give it to one of our artists. They might find something to…” she trailed off. “Interesting.” 

“What’s interesting?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know yet,” she said. “It’s just interesting.” She glanced at them both, and made a sort of shooing gesture. “All right, that’s enough hovering. I need to focus.”

Bucky scowled. “I want to know what’s interesting.” 

“I’ll tell you when I know,” Shuri said firmly. “Don’t frown at me, old man.”

“ _Old man?_ ” Bucky said. Steve held back a laugh.

Shuri’s smile was impish. “Are you going to get crotchety at me?” 

“Come on,” Steve said. “I don’t think you’re going to win this round.” 

“What about him?” Bucky asked, gesturing at Steve. “Is _he_ old? Don’t you hang out with _Loki?_ He’s got a millennium and change–”

“Loki’s an alien,” Shuri said. “It’s different.” 

Steve patted Bucky on the shoulder. “Come on, Gramps. Let’s old men leave this young whippersnapper to her work.” 

“You’re hilarious,” Bucky said, but he let Steve lead him out of the lab.

* * *

“Seen the cool space rock?” Natasha asked, her voice dry. Steve looked up from his stretches and glanced her up and down. She seemed more relaxed now than she had at first, though he thought she was still settling in - still not quite sure of her place here. She covered it pretty well, but Steve had gotten to know some of her tells.

“Sure did,” he said. “Space is more Bucky’s thing than mine, but...pretty neat.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “‘More Bucky’s thing?’ Last time I checked you’re the one here married to an alien.”

He made a face. “Ha, ha. You know what I mean.” 

“Mm. I don’t know. Seems like you’re pretty _into_ space.” She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Steve cast her a dirty look though he felt his face warm. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a smartass, Romanov?”

“Occasionally.” She stretched her arms overhead and let them fall. 

“How’re you doing?” Steve asked after a pause. Natasha cocked an eyebrow at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how’re you doing,” Steve said. “I know you weren’t sure about coming here. About your welcome. I wanted to...check in, I guess, on how you’re feeling now.” 

“Fine,” Natasha said promptly. Steve gave her a dubious look, but she said, “no, really. It’s been...fine. Almost everyone’s been welcoming. I think Okoye is even warming up to me.”

“Almost everyone,” Steve said. Natasha shrugged.

“I don’t need people to like me, Steve. I’m used to them not.” 

“Who?” Steve asked. Natasha eyed him for a few seconds.

“Your husband,” she said, “and Bucky.” Steve winced, a little, and Natasha’s lips curled up at one corner. “That’s not new. Just maybe a little worse now than it was, and I get that.” 

“I can talk to them if you want,” Steve offered. Natasha shook her head.

“I don’t think that’d be productive. Like I said, it’s not new - neither of them has ever trusted me. Which is fair. And I get the feeling Loki in particular can hold a grudge like it’s his job. I don’t want to give the idea that I came whining to you.” 

“You’re not whining,” Steve objected. 

“That’s how it’d look.” Natasha paused, and then said, quieter, “I made a bad call.” 

“You made the best call you knew to make,” Steve said. “That’s all any of us can do.” 

“Thanks,” Natasha said, “but you’re being too generous.” After a moment, she added, “more generous than I bet you’d be to Tony.” 

Steve felt his face freeze. “You turned around,” he said. “You _listened._ And you didn’t act like–” He cut off, and took a deep breath. “You didn’t hear what he said about them,” he said. “Told me I shouldn’t be protecting Loki. That he deserved to die. That he’s a monster and I was an idiot for thinking I could fix him.” His jaw twitched. “And he could’ve. In the Raft - it’s a miracle Ross _didn’t_ kill him.”

Natasha was quiet. Her face was hard to read. “I’m not going to argue with you,” she said, finally, quietly. 

“Thanks,” Steve said. He could hear the sharpness, verging on bitterness, in his own voice. Natasha glanced away, and he took a deep breath. “Sorry for...I just can’t, Nat. Not right now.”

“Okay.” Her lips twisted a little. “Sorry I brought it up.” 

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s fine. Just...sore subject still, I guess.” He took a breath and let it out. “I should...I was heading back.” He paused. “If you ever did want to come by, for lunch or dinner or anything...things might be different if Loki got to know you.”

“Maybe,” Natasha said, though she didn’t seem like she thought it was likely. Steve opened his mouth, feeling like he should say something, and closed it again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he ended up saying before he left. Taking advantage of the slow walk back to settle himself out again. He knew why Natasha had pushed: sooner or later they were going to have to work together. 

A part of Steve wondered a little grimly what Loki would do when it came to that reunion. 

“Can you look at it? I’m just saying it’s _weird._ ”

Steve recognized Shuri’s voice from up ahead and checked himself briefly before continuing forward. She was standing in the hallway outside their door, and he heard Loki’s answer: “what does _‘weird’_ mean?”

“Shuri?” Steve said, and she turned briefly toward him to give a distracted wave before turning her attention back to Loki.

“If I knew what it meant I would tell you,” she said. “That’s the _problem._ But it seems like your kind of weird–”

“Magical,” Loki said, and Shuri nodded.

“Sort of,” she said. “But not _really._ It’s just...something, and since you’re the one here with the most experience with weird, I at least wanted a second opinion.” 

Steve stopped next to Shuri and looked at Loki, whose expression seemed to be trying to remain long-suffering, but Steve could read the curiosity underneath. “This is about the meteorite?” 

“Yes!” Shuri said. “There’s something wrong with it.”

“Something...wrong with it?” Steve asked. 

“Yes,” Shuri said. “I could ask Thor–”

Loki’s eyes narrowed. “If you think that’s going to work,” he said, “you are fishing in the wrong lake. But I doubt he’ll be able to tell you much with any precision.” 

“Come on,” Steve said. “You know you’re wondering.” He glanced at Shuri. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s flattered you asked.” 

Loki gave him a look of (insincere) irritation and heaved a sigh. “Fine, fine,” he said. “I _was_ planning on a quiet afternoon, but I suppose I can indulge you.” 

Steve tried not to smile. Shuri beamed. “ _Thank_ you,” she said to Steve, and to Loki, “you know you don’t _have_ to make things harder than they need to be.”

“Of course I do,” Loki said smoothly. “It’s important for you to rise to a challenge.” 

Shuri said something in Xhosa that made Loki grin. He turned toward Steve and kissed him, brief and warm. “I expect I’ll be back before too long,” he said. He paused and then said, voice lowering, “and perhaps we’ll see about a less quiet afternoon, mm?” 

Steve hoped Shuri hadn’t heard that. “Guess we’ll see,” he said, as evenly as he could manage. Loki laughed, almost soundless, and went out with Shuri. Steve couldn’t help smiling a little after them.

How far, he thought, Loki had come since those early days in the tower, alone, isolated, closed off from the world behind high walls. 

He wondered if Loki was even aware of how much he’d changed. If he gave himself any credit for it. 

Probably not.

Steve retreated into the apartment and sent a message to Sam inviting him over. After a moment he added that he could bring Bucky, if he wanted.

 _Subtle,_ Sam wrote.

 _We’ll have to do a double date sometime,_ Steve sent back, and got a photo of Sam flipping him off. 

* * *

Sam had come and gone by the time Loki got back. He flopped onto the couch and swung his legs across Steve’s lap. “The princess was right,” he said. “It is something other than an ordinary rock fallen from space. I’m not certain what it _is,_ exactly, but it’s certainly peculiar.” He shrugged. “But it isn’t magical. And I am not a scholar of cosmic material.” 

“You aren’t?” Steve asked, a little surprised.

“No,” Loki said. “The fabric of the cosmos, yes. The energy that underlies all things. But not _matter._ I preferred traveling through the stars than studying the things that orbit them.”

Steve supposed that made sense. He rested a hand on Loki’s leg. “So you can’t help?” 

“Very little,” Loki said. “Some rudimentary questions, yes, and establishing that there is no trace of magic...this one I think I shall leave to the princess.” 

Steve examined him, considering a few moments before he said, “she respects you.”

Loki frowned slightly. “I know.” 

“Just something to remember,” Steve said. Loki gave him an odd look.

“Are you saying this for my sake or hers?” 

“Maybe a little bit of both.” Steve gave Loki’s legs a little push. “If you want to lie down on me I’d rather have your head in my lap than your feet.”

Loki made a little humming sound. “What if I’d rather the latter?” 

“I could just push you off the couch.” 

“Are you going to?” Loki asked, eyebrows raised, and Steve made a face at him, though he let it fall away quickly enough.

“I just think,” Steve said, “that you should remember that people here care about you.” 

“I know they do,” Loki said lightly. “It’s concerning.”

Steve frowned. “It shouldn’t be.” Loki made a noncommittal sort of humming noise, and Steve sighed. There probably wasn’t much point in pursuing this further, even if he wished there were. It was one of those sort-of jokes Steve wished Loki wouldn’t make; the ones he knew that on some level he believed.

He told himself it was a work in progress. There was only so much he could push in one go without spooking Loki. 

And he _was_ getting better. Just...slowly.

Loki did move, pivoting to rest his head on Steve’s lap, eyes half closed, looking remarkably like Váli when he was feeling lazy. The humming sound he made when Steve ran his fingers through his hair only encouraged the comparison. 

“Comfortable?” He said.

“Mm. Yes. You can keep doing that.” 

“I can, can I,” Steve said, but he didn’t stop.

* * *

At first Steve took it for simple exhaustion. Loki was prone to running himself into the ground, sometimes without noticing, and he hadn’t forgotten the time he’d straight up _stopped sleeping._

He certainly seemed to be feeling off. And not just _off_ in the general sort of way that Steve expected, but flagging, under the weather. His eyes were dull and a little glazed, and he woke up one morning with a crippling headache that had him retching in the bathroom before crawling back into bed with a washcloth over his eyes. It wasn’t the first time Steve had seen Loki get a migraine, but combined with everything else…

“Are you getting sick?” He asked, keeping his voice quiet. 

“I don’t get sick,” Loki said. “Not with human illnesses.” 

“Could you have caught something on Sakaar?” Steve asked. Loki shook his head. 

“And take this long to manifest? I doubt it.”

Steve frowned. “ _I_ got sick. Could it be the same thing?”

“Why didn’t I catch it from you then?” Loki exhaled. “I’ll be all right. I just need to rest.”

Steve’s worry didn’t abate, but he let it go. He stayed in for the day, though, checking in periodically though Loki did indeed seem to be resting. Around evening he went in and put a hand on Loki’s forehead, just in case, and frowned when he felt how hot he was. Loki stirred and made a little “mmmhn?” noise that Steve, in spite of himself, found adorable. 

“Hey,” he said. “You feel feverish.” 

“Happens sometimes,” Loki said blurrily. “With...this.” He waved a vague hand that Steve supposed was meant to indicate _migraine._ Steve frowned, though.

“Maybe I should find a doctor to look in on you.” 

“I don’t get sick,” Loki said again. “And besides - no one here would know what they were looking for.” That was true, Steve supposed, and it made him think he should try to talk Loki into letting _someone_ examine him enough that they _would_ be able to help in a medical emergency. Loki would take convincing, but maybe Steve could persuade him. 

“There’s a first time for everything,” Steve said, but he sighed, recognizing the obstinacy in Loki’s voice, even blurry as it was. “Okay. I’ll let it go for now, but...you sure seem sick to me.”

And that, Steve had to admit, scared him. Loki was telling the truth - he didn’t seem to get sick. At least not since he’d been on Earth. The idea that he might be now...seemed like it would have to be something nasty, to get through an extra strong immune system.

“It’ll pass,” Loki said, though he sounded profoundly drained even as he said it. “I’ve certainly felt worse.” He cracked a smile. 

“You say that,” Steve said, “but it’s never reassuring.”

Loki hummed. “It is meant to be a joke.” 

_It isn’t one I find funny,_ Steve thought. _I’ve watched you skirt near the edge of death too many times for that._ He kept that to himself, though, and just moved his hand on Loki’s forehead down to his shoulder. 

“If you’re not better by tomorrow would you let someone see you?” he asked. When Loki started to frown, he brought out his trump card. “If it was me you would insist. If I remember right, you _did_ insist.” 

Loki didn’t have a counterargument, and by the way his lips twisted he knew it. “Fine,” he said. “If I am not better by tomorrow.”

* * *

Loki was on his feet and seemingly normal the next day, though he still felt a little warm to the touch. “You said if I wasn’t better,” Loki said, when Steve broached the subject of seeing a doctor. “I _am_ better. Besides, Wanda and I have an appointment today and I don’t wish to disappoint her.”

“I think she’d understand if you needed to rain check to take care of yourself,” Steve said, perhaps a little pointedly. Loki hummed.

“Perhaps,” he said, “but I wouldn’t. I’m _fine,_ Steve.” Steve pressed his lips unhappily together and Loki relented slightly. “I will return after Wanda’s lessons, and you may coddle me all you like for the remainder of the afternoon and evening.”

“Generous of you,” Steve said, but he knew a losing battle when he saw one, and sighed. “All right. But I’m holding you to it.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” Loki cupped Steve’s face in his hands and kissed his forehead. “I shall expect a full-body massage,” he said, smile saying he was teasing. 

“You wait,” Steve said. “You’re going to get it.” For all his light voice, though, Steve frowned after Loki when he left. He still had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach, a sense of something wrong. No more than a feeling, but Steve tended to trust his “feelings.”

He shook himself, rolled out his shoulders, and went out. Better to keep himself busy than let himself worry all morning. 

He ended up using his new kimoyo beads - he was still getting used to those - to call T’Challa and ask him about the meteorite. Shuri had called it ‘weird,’ and Loki had agreed in slightly different words, but neither of them had come to any conclusions, and Steve couldn’t help being curious. 

“You’d do better to ask her,” T’Challa said. “In fact - Shuri!” He called, and a moment later she appeared next to T’Challa.

“Steve!” She said. “Hello. I was trying to get in touch with Loki. Is he with you? I keep telling him to keep his kimoyo beads on–”

Steve recalled what had looked like a dismantled set in one of the drawers and cleared his throat. “He’s not with me,” he said. “He’s working with Wanda. Why?” 

“Just - the data on this meteorite,” she said. “There’s something that…” She made a face. “It’s not from around here. And by that I mean possibly not from this _dimension_ , and while Loki keeps going back and forth on what his Nine Realms have to do with dimensionality, I think this might be _one_ thing he knows better than me.” 

“I’ll tell him,” Steve said. “Though he’s a little under the weather, I think, so I might tell him later, if that’s all right. It’s going to be hard enough for me to talk him into taking a break.” 

Shuri’s expression shifted. “Under the weather?” she said. “As in, sick?”

T’Challa seemed surprised. “I didn’t know that was possible.” 

“I didn’t either,” Steve said, “and he doesn’t seem to believe it. But that’s what it looks like to me.” 

“Hmm,” Shuri said, and Steve glanced at her. She shifted her feet and said, “I need to check something. And would you tell him to get in touch with me when you get the chance?” 

“Is something wrong?” Steve asked, the uneasiness in his stomach bubbling up. 

Shuri opened her mouth, glanced at T’Challa, and said, “I’m not sure. It’s just - I don’t know. Probably nothing. Gotta go - bye!” 

And she vanished out of view. T’Challa frowned after her and then looked at Steve. Apparently the look on his face was obvious, because T’Challa said, “if she thought it was an emergency she would say.”

“I know,” Steve said. “But…” He shook his head and took a deep breath. “Like she said. It’s probably nothing. Just because Loki thinks he’s invincible…” He tracked down a smile. “Thanks, T’Challa.”

“I’m not certain what I did,” T’Challa said, sounding bemused. “But you’re welcome.” He hung up, and Steve sighed and rubbed his forehead, pushing down the vague sense of unease that Shuri’s reaction had brought forward. 

He turned to go find Bucky - ask him to spar, maybe - and made it maybe halfway there when the beads blinked and Wanda’s face appeared. Even before she spoke Steve’s guts clenched with the knowledge that something had gone wrong. That his instincts had been right. 

“Steve,” she said. “Loki’s–”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said, before she could finish. “Where are you?”

* * *

When Steve arrived, Loki was sitting up with Wanda hovering over him, a glass of water in his hand. “I’m _fine,_ witchling,” he was saying, though he sounded exhausted. “Just a bit…” He turned his head and saw Steve, and looked like he wanted to wince. 

“He _fainted,_ ” Wanda said, in what sounded like an appeal to him, a mixture of exasperation and worry. 

“I didn’t _faint,_ ” Loki said. “I was just a bit dizzy. For a moment. It’s already passed.” He looked pale, though, and Steve noticed that he hadn’t tried to stand. He strode quickly over and put a hand on his forehead. 

“You’re warm again,” he said, and couldn’t keep his voice from sounding accusing. 

The worry quickly outweighed the exasperation in Wanda’s expression. “Are you _sick?_ ”

“I don’t get sick,” Loki said, sounding, for his part, more than a little irritable, and he pushed himself up to standing - only to sway, and when Steve caught him he leaned heavily against him. Wanda shot him a look, her brow furrowed. 

“You idiot,” she said to Loki. “You should have told me you weren’t feeling well!”

“I’m feeling fine,” Loki said, but it sounded less convincing when it was slightly muffled in Steve’s shoulder. 

“All right, Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Get-Sick,’” Steve said, trying to keep his voice teasing and not betray too much of his own worry. “Let’s get you into a bed.”

“I’ll make some soup,” Wanda said. “And bring it by later.”

“Stop fretting, witchling,” Loki said, lifting his head and trying to push himself upright. Steve didn’t let him go far. “You worry too much.” 

“I wouldn’t have to if my friends didn’t do things worth worrying over,” Wanda shot back. To Steve, she said, “I _am_ bringing soup.” 

“Thank you, Wanda,” Steve said, calling up a smile that he hoped looked reassuring. He turned toward Loki and shifted him around to support him against his side. “Soup would be great.” 

To his relief, Loki didn’t try to pull away again, leaning his weight willingly against Steve - though it was also a little worrying that he was no longer trying to protest. “So,” Steve said, “you fainted.”

“I didn’t,” Loki objected, though it mostly sounded petulant and less than convincing. “As I told Wanda, I was a little dizzy. That’s all.” 

“And feverish,” Steve said. “What else?” Loki pressed his lips together, and Steve suppressed the urge to sigh. “ _Loki._ ” 

“Not well,” Loki said grudgingly. “Tired. Weak. My head hurts. But I am telling you that there is no possibility that I could have caught some Midgardian disease. I’m _immune._ ”

“So this is something else,” Steve said, and he almost stopped dead in his tracks. “Poison?” 

Loki shook his head, and then grimaced like he regretted doing it. “Doubtful.” 

Steve remembered how Shuri had reacted to his saying that Loki wasn’t feeling well, and he sucked in a breath through his nose. “What if it wasn’t something Midgardian,” he said slowly. “Could you get sick from that?” 

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed. “Possibly. But it’s unlikely that Sakaar–”

“Not Sakaar,” Steve said. “The meteorite.” 

Loki was quiet. Steve realized he could hear a faint rasp in his breathing. “You’re going to lie down,” he said firmly, trying to shove away his sudden fear. “And I’m going to call Shuri, and a doctor.”

“The princess, fine,” Loki said. “But a doctor–” 

Steve took a deep breath so he didn’t snap _don’t be stubborn._ “Why don’t you want to see one?” he asked. “They won’t hurt you.” 

“I do not…” Loki’s nostrils flared. “I have poor associations with...Midgardian medicine.” 

Steve opened his mouth to say _you never seemed to have trouble with Bruce_ but...that wasn’t true, was it? The last time Loki had gotten real medical attention had been right after they’d rescued him from Doom, and he’d broken Bruce’s wrist. 

He thought of the nightmare of that room in Doom’s castle, and felt briefly nauseated. 

“Oh,” he said. And quieter, “you know it wouldn’t be anything like...things work differently here. And I’d be right there.” He paused, and said, “I’m just...worried. And I don’t want this - whatever it is - to get worse.” 

“I’ll be fine,” Loki said. “Stop _fretting,_ Steve.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Steve said. “And when you’re not leaning on me to stay upright.”

“Perhaps I’m just enjoying leaning on you,” Loki said, with a smile that almost looked normal. Steve met his eyes steadily and Loki looked away. “Truly,” he said. “It isn’t that bad.”

“I hope you’ll forgive me if I think your metric for ‘bad’ is a little bit skewed,” Steve said unhappily. Loki sighed, but thankfully didn’t try to argue with that. 

Back in their rooms Loki sank onto the couch and after a moment sitting up tilted sideways and lay down, eyes squinting. Steve felt a pang looking at him. “Are you sure you won’t let a doctor look at you,” he said hopefully, but Loki shook his head.

“Quite sure,” he said. “There’s no need.” Steve went over and bent down to kiss his forehead before calling Shuri. 

She answered almost immediately. “Hey, Steve,” she said, and didn’t seem happy. “How’s Loki?” 

“Not great,” Steve said, and then amended, “worse. He fainted training with Wanda. I know you’re not a doctor, but…” He shifted, and then said carefully, “it seemed like you might have some idea of what’s going on.” 

Shuri said something in Xhosa that did not sound like the sort of language a princess should use. “I might,” she said, and suddenly sounded a lot more grim. “First things first. How are _you_ feeling?” 

“Um - fine?” Steve frowned. “Do you mean, am I feeling sick?” She nodded. “No, _I’m_ okay.” 

“And so am I, and so is Bucky,” she said, “and as far as I can tell everyone else who had contact.” 

“Contact with what?” Steve said, glancing over his shoulder at Loki stretched out on the couch, his eyes closed.

“Our extra-dimensional meteorite,” Shuri said. Steve fell still. Hadn’t he just thought...

“I wondered if that could be...you think it got him sick? How?”

“Well, not the meteorite itself. Something on it. That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” 

“Is anyone else at risk?” Steve asked, rather than the ten other questions clamoring to the front of his mind, none of which Shuri would be able to answer: _how bad is it, what’s going to happen to him, how do we treat a disease from another dimension._

“That’s why I asked about you,” she said. “As far as I can tell...humans are fine. Thor and Valkyrie should probably keep their distance, at least for now, until I know more. From Loki and maybe...maybe anyone who might be contaminated too, since we don’t know anything about transmission.” 

Thor wasn’t going to like that. Though...Steve hesitated, glancing at Loki again, debating with himself, and decided that disclosing that Loki was a different species than either of the others could wait, for now. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll...pass that on.” He paused again, and then asked, his stomach churning a little, “is there anything I can do?” 

“I’ll send a doctor over,” Shuri started to say, but Steve shook his head. 

“He won’t see one.”

Shuri narrowed her eyes. “That’s stupid. Let me talk to him.” 

Steve opened his mouth to explain, but decided Loki had better decide what he wanted to say for himself. He walked back over. “Loki,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Shuri wants to talk to you.”

“I heard,” Loki said. “The answer is still no, Princess. You won’t convince me.” 

“Why not?” Shuri demanded. “Is this a pride thing? Because there’s nothing dignified about being sick.” 

“No,” Loki said, and his voice was suddenly very flat. “This is a ‘vivid memories of having pieces of my insides cut out of me’ thing.” 

Shuri looked stricken. “Loki,” Steve said, pained. He exhaled slowly.

“I don’t want anyone poking at me,” Loki said tiredly. “Not even your people, however much you trust them. I cannot. There are too many ways that knowledge could be used to harm me.”

“We wouldn’t,” Shuri said. She sounded hurt, and Steve thought maybe she meant _I wouldn’t._

“Much as you would like to,” Loki said, “you cannot truly promise that.” He turned away from her, closing his eyes again. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, because he felt like he needed to. She shook her head, her lips pressed together. 

“It’s fine,” she said, though Steve could see the hurt she was trying not to show. “I’m going to go see what I can figure out about...whatever this is.” 

She hung up, and Steve looked at Loki. 

“Don’t lecture me,” Loki said heavily. “She should not have asked.”

“You could have been kinder.” 

“I didn’t want to be.” Loki turned on his side. His face was too pale, and Steve saw him shiver. 

“Chills?” He said. 

“Only a little,” Loki said. “I think I’ll just rest for a bit, if you don’t mind.” 

“Of course I don’t mind,” Steve said, but there was a worried pit in his stomach. Loki didn’t seem that sick so far - a bad cold, or a mild flu, maybe. Except for the fainting. But it still worried him. Some part of him thought darkly that Loki didn’t do anything by halves; why would his being sick be any different?

* * *

Wanda did indeed bring soup. Loki didn’t wake up when she came in, which brought another lurch of worry. Wanda looked at him, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Is he all right?” Steve hesitated, but decided she deserved better than a reassuring lie. 

“He’s not that bad off right now,” he said, “but we don’t really know what he’s sick with. So I guess we don’t know what to expect.” He paused, and then added, “it’s probably good that he’s sleeping, anyway.”

“Probably.” Wanda looked worried, though, and drifted over to look at him. Loki didn’t look that bad at the moment other than maybe being a bit paler than normal, and with slightly darker circles around his eyes. 

“He’ll be okay,” Steve said, hoping he sounded like he was more sure of that than he was. Wanda gave him a sideways look. 

“You don’t have to pretend you’re not worried in front of me,” she said. Steve breathed out, and tried to summon a smile.

“I’ve been told by a lot of people that I worry too much.”

“You have a lot to worry about,” Wanda said, not smiling back. Before Steve could reply, Loki stirred with a small noise and opened one eye, looking bleary and half-asleep. It was, frankly, somewhat adorable. 

“Witchling?” Loki said. Wanda gave him a bit of a wave.

“I said I was going to bring you soup,” she said. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Loki flicked his fingers. “I wasn’t planning on taking more than a nap,” he said, and started to stand up only to put a hand to his head and sit abruptly back down. Steve lurched toward him.

“Loki?” 

“I’m fine,” Loki said - his refrain right now, Steve thought bitterly. “Just a bit of lightheadedness - Norns, Steve, don’t look so _stricken._ I’m not dying.” Steve’s heart locked in his throat, some superstitious part of him thinking _don’t say that._ Something must have shown on his face, because Loki’s expression softened. “Steve. I know you don’t find it comforting, but I’ve been a great deal sicker and survived. A little dizziness, a mild fever...it’s nothing.”

“For now,” Steve said. “We don’t know how that could change. We don’t even know what we’re dealing with, here.”

Wanda glanced toward Steve, eyebrows furrowing. “What do you mean?” 

“He means that whatever I’ve caught, it isn’t a Midgardian illness,” Loki said, leaning his head back. “Most likely from Shuri’s mysterious meteorite. Don’t worry, apparently it isn’t catching for humans.” 

Wanda looked alarmed nonetheless. “So it could be serious, and you wouldn’t know,” she said.

“Not you, too,” Loki said, but they were all interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Loki?” Thor’s voice, and Steve grimaced. 

“I’d better tell him he needs to stay out,” he said to Wanda and Loki. “Since we don’t know if this thing might be dangerous to him.” 

“He’s not going to like that,” Loki said, voicing Steve’s earlier thought. “Best of luck.” 

“I’m getting a spoon for the soup,” Wanda said, “and you’re going to eat some of it.”

Steve left them to wrangle over that and went over to open the door, letting himself into the hallway and closing it behind him. Thor gave him a look of worried consternation. “You’re not going to let me in?”

“Not at the moment,” Steve said. “There’s some...trouble.”

“What’s going on?” Thor demanded. “I heard Loki was ill?” He glanced toward the door. “Why can’t I come in?” 

“Because whatever he’s sick with, it doesn’t seem to be contagious to humans, but it could be to you,” Steve said. “We don’t know.”

Thor narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean, you don’t know?” 

“It’s something from space,” Steve said. “Not Earth. So we don’t know how infectious it is, or what it might do to you - or Valkyrie, for that matter.”

“Loki has had illnesses to which Aesir were not vulnerable before,” Thor said stubbornly. “This could be the same.”

“Could be,” Steve said. “Or it could be worse for you. Either way–” He took a breath. “Either way, I don’t think Loki would want you risking it.”

“I don’t care,” Thor said. “If Loki’s sick, I want to see him.”

“I’m sorry, Thor,” Steve said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Having one sick teammate is bad enough. And…” He took a deep breath and went low. “And if this does get bad for Loki...wouldn’t you rather resources stayed focused on him rather than divided between two people?” 

Thor’s expression flickered. “How bad do you think it is likely to get?” He asked, his voice quieter, and Steve could see his own worry reflected. 

“I don’t know,” he said heavily. “I hope...Loki doesn’t seem worried. And I hope he’s right.” But he wasn’t going to count on it. If Steve had learned anything, it was that counting on things to be okay was a quick way to be disappointed. 

“He used to be sick often,” Thor said, his eyes moving to the door like he could see Loki through it. “Every summer. I know why, now - why things struck him down that did not bother the rest of us; why he was more vulnerable at that time of year.” He shook himself, and gave Steve a plaintive look. “When will you know if it is dangerous to me?”

“I’d recommend going to Shuri,” Steve said. “She can set up a test to find out, probably.”

Thor squared his jaw and nodded. “I will, then,” he said. “And I will be back.” He paused, determination slipping to show the worry again.

“I’ll look after him,” Steve said. Thor gave him a small smile.

“I know you will,” he said, and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. “I would trust no one more to do so.” 

Steve watched him go, chest hurting a little even as it warmed.

When he went back in, Wanda had apparently chivvied Loki into eating a bowl of soup, or at least sipping at it slowly. He looked decidedly disgruntled about it, and Steve pressed his lips together so he didn’t smile. Loki lowered the bowl and looked toward him. 

“He’s going to go find out if he’s vulnerable from Shuri,” Steve said. “I’m guessing he’ll be back.” 

“Of course he will.” Loki lifted a spoonful of soup out of the bowl and let it fall back in, staring down into it. “All this fuss really is unnecessary.”

“Why don’t you let us decide what’s necessary?” Steve said, trying to keep his voice mild. He didn’t quite get why Loki would argue so much about this.

Or maybe he did, a little, and thinking that brought back the ache in his chest, this time without the warmth. 

“Because you are prone to maddening yourself worrying about others and ignoring yourself,” Loki said, and then glanced at Wanda and added, “nor is he the only one.” 

“You know,” Steve said, “you’re about as bad at letting other people take care of you as you are at accepting compliments.” The look Loki gave him was almost suspicious. Steve gave him a crooked smile. “You can’t argue me out of worrying, Loki. You can at least let me try to do something about it.”

Loki opened his mouth and then closed it. He sank a little into the couch. “Norns,” he said, “I’m outnumbered.” He sounded rueful, and casual enough, but watching closely Steve thought he could see him drooping, picking at the soup more than eating it. Wanda glanced at the bowl and frowned, and he thought she was noticing the same. 

“Is it not good?” 

Loki gave her a weak smile. “It’s very good, witchling. I am just not very hungry.”

“Eat some anyway,” Wanda said obstinately, and shot Steve a worried look that he tried not to return. He went over and sat down next to Loki, reaching out to feel his forehead again. He seemed warmer, though it was hard to tell; more obvious - and more concerning - was the slightly dull look to his eyes. 

“Are you feeling worse?” He asked. The look Loki gave him was faintly exasperated at first, but then faded, and he leaned a little toward Steve. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Or if so, the difference isn’t much.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. “Mostly I am tired, and my head aches, but neither of those things are so terribly unusual for me.” He smiled faintly, but Steve couldn’t return it. 

“You’ll tell me if things do get worse,” he said. “Right away? No...trying to tough it out, or pretend things are better than they are.” Loki hesitated, but just as Steve started to tense he nodded.

“I’ll tell you,” he said. “If things get worse.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s good for you all that I am not quite so much of a weakling when it comes to illnesses as I used to be. I would be driving you mad.” 

_I almost wish you would,_ Steve thought, but he just leaned over and kissed Loki’s temple lightly, then glanced at Wanda, who was watching them with a bit of a smile that did not quite erase the concern around her eyes. 

“Witchling,” Loki said, “ _really._ You don’t need to hover.” 

Wanda looked a little hurt and glanced away. “Keep the soup,” she said. “For when you want more. And don’t worry about our lessons until you’re well.” She left, and Loki frowned after her, looking a bit perplexed. 

“What did I say?”

“She wants to help,” Steve said, “and you’re not letting her. Sometimes letting people take care of you is as much for them as it is for you.”

Loki frowned. “I don’t want to be cosseted.” 

“If you ask me,” Steve said, “I think you could use a little cosseting. Anyway, it’s just something to think about.”

Loki sighed. “Would you mind putting the soup away?” he asked. “I think I need to rest more.”

“Of course,” Steve said. “I’ll take care of it. Want to move to the bed, though?” 

“Mm. Very well.” Loki pushed himself to his feet and Steve braced for him to fall, but he seemed steadier, and walked back toward the bedroom under his own steam, though slowly and with little of his usual grace. Steve couldn’t help but find it a little unnerving.

He filled a glass of water, added some ice, and brought it back to find Loki collapsed on the bed and already half asleep. 

“I brought you some water,” Steve said, setting it down. “Call if you need anything.” 

“Mm-hm,” Loki said, and then turned his head and said, more clearly, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Steve said, his chest aching a little again, and he went to put away the soup.

* * *

Steve knew when Loki woke because he heard him throwing up in the bathroom. Tossing the tablet he’d been reading on aside, he hurried down the hall to find Loki breathing hard but apparently finished purging his system of the little soup he’d eaten. He looked worse than he had when he’d gone to sleep: pale, shaky, and Steve thought he could hear a faint off-ness to his breathing, not quite a wheeze.

Loki turned his head and smiled weakly. “Hello, Steve,” he said. “I must make a very striking figure just now.”

“I’m not really thinking about how you look,” Steve said. “How do you _feel?_ ”

Loki exhaled slowly, and yeah, there was definitely something off about his breathing. Steve recognized the signs of incipient respiratory distress; he was pretty familiar with them. “Sick,” Loki said, sounding a mixture between rueful and miserable. Steve smiled weakly.

“Now he admits it,” he said. “Are you having trouble breathing?” 

“Not exactly,” Loki said, and when Steve looked at him he said, “it’s just a bit of a sore throat.”

“No ache in your chest? Or tightness?” 

“No.” Loki grabbed onto the counter and levered himself up, turning on the water and splashing some on his face. 

“I don’t like the way you sound,” Steve said. “Are you sure - please let someone see you? I’ll be right there, and they’ll come here. You won’t have to go to any...labs, and they won’t take any blood or anything.” 

Loki stayed still, leaning on the counter, his chest barely moving with his breathing. His body had tensed when Steve asked, but he looked like he was struggling to focus. 

“Fine,” he said, the word sounding like it’d been dragged out of him. “The princess. I’ll let her come.”

“Shuri isn’t a doctor,” Steve said.

“I know,” Loki said, voice flat. “Exactly.”

Steve understood Loki’s reluctance. He _did._ Some part of him still wanted to snap at Loki that he needed to take this seriously, and that smart as Shuri was this wasn’t her area of expertise. But he didn’t think that would get him anywhere. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll let her know. Until she does...lie back down, okay? Try to relax. I’ll make you some tea, or...heat up some of Wanda’s soup?” 

Loki grimaced. “Tea I can manage. Soup sounds like too much.”

“You’ll need to eat,” Steve said, trying not to sound either reproachful or fretful. By the look Loki cast him, he somehow managed to sound both. 

“I will,” he said, however. “Just not now. It might wait at least until the taste of vomit is out of my mouth.” 

“Lie down,” Steve said again. “I’ll get you some juice, and call Shuri.”

Loki made a bit of a face, but he went and laid back down without further argument, which was as telling as anything else how bad he was feeling. Steve tried not to let the worry already knotted in his stomach get any worse, and called Shuri. She raised the same objection he had - ‘he does know I’m not a doctor, right? Medical science isn’t really my field’ - but she agreed to come.

“Any updates on whatever it is causing this?” he asked, before hanging up.

“Not really. Well, sort of. I think I’m looking at it, but it’s not like anything we’d recognize as alive, and it’s not _behaving_ like anything either. As far as I can tell it just...sits there. Put it in culture, nothing. I’m not even completely sure we’re looking at the right _thing._ ” She paused, and then said, lowly, “this would be so much easier if Loki’d just let me test him.” 

“I know,” Steve said. Shuri’s projection looked away.

“What he said...did that really…”

“Victor von Doom managed to capture Loki twice,” Steve said after a moment. “Suppressed his magic and kept him...he was trying to figure out how Loki...worked.” He fought to keep his voice as even as he could, trying not to picture what he’d seen that second time, the image engraved in his nightmares. “Afterwards, Bruce was trying to help. Loki broke his wrist. He hasn’t really...seen any doctors since then.”

“Oh,” Shuri said after a moment. “I see.” Her eyebrows were furrowed. 

“Sorry,” Steve said. She gave him an odd look.

“For what? I didn’t know. It’s good that I do now. I’ll be there soon.”

She cut off the connection, and Steve went to pour Loki some juice, bringing it over to him where he was tucked back into bed. His eyes were half-closed and though he opened them when Steve came in, he looked groggy, half-dazed. He took the juice and sipped at it, and Steve couldn’t keep from feeling his forehead again. Too hot. _Way_ too hot, by Steve’s estimate. 

“What do Asgardians do for a fever?” Steve asked.

“Tincture of thiraflower,” Loki said. He breathed out through his nose and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “My head is full of fog. I hate this.” 

“I know.” Steve sat down on the edge of the bed. “Anything I can help with?” 

“If only.” Loki sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. “All _I_ can do is...lie here.”

“Your magic won’t heal you?” Steve asked. 

“It will,” Loki said. “Hopefully more quickly than my body would manage on its own. But I cannot _control_ that any more than I can ease my own headaches.” 

“Oh.” Steve shifted, grimacing. “Do you want anything? A cool washcloth, or…”

Loki opened one eye and gave him a very small smile. “If you’re offering, I suppose a cool washcloth wouldn’t go amiss. And a handsome attendant to apply it tenderly to my forehead.” 

Well, Steve thought, at least he could still tease. That seemed like a good sign. “I think I can find one of those,” he said, and went to get a washcloth. He was running it under cold water when someone knocked on the door. Startled that Shuri had arrived so fast, he went to answer it.

It wasn’t Shuri.

“Someone was saying something about Loki being sick,” Bucky said. “I figured I heard wrong, but looking at you…” His once over was critical, and Steve was very conscious of the fact that he hadn’t showered yet this morning. “I didn’t know he _could_ get sick. Kind of figured that didn’t happen to alien gods.”

“It doesn’t usually,” Steve said. “Shuri thinks it’s some kind of...something that came off the meteorite.” 

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Shit,” he said, and Steve quickly added, “it doesn’t seem like it’s contagious to humans. No one else has gotten sick, anyway. Thor’s staying away, and Val, but…”

“Oh, good,” Bucky said. “Anything that can knock Loki on his back...wouldn’t want to know what it’d do to one of us.” He frowned, looking past Steve. “How is he, anyway?” 

“Not great,” Steve said. “Resting, at the moment. Shuri’s going to come by to check him out.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rose. “Shuri’s not a doctor, is she?” 

“No,” Steve said, “but Loki won’t agree to see one of those.” 

Apparently Bucky knew enough that Steve didn’t have to explain that. Or maybe, Steve thought with an unhappy lurch, the feeling was more personally familiar. “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “I can see how that would make things hard.” He fidgeted, and Steve realized belatedly that Bucky was still standing in the hallway. He stepped back quickly.

“Sorry - come in. Do you want anything, water or…”

“No thanks,” Bucky said. He glanced down the hallway toward the bedroom and gestured at it. “He asleep or can I go tell him he needs to tell me if he’s going to miss a sparring session?” Steve gave Bucky a pained look, and he snorted. “Shit, Steve, I’m joking. I don’t make soup and I don’t have a card but I can at least drop by when a friend’s sick.” 

Steve thought that might have been the first time he’d heard Bucky call Loki a friend. “We can go find out,” he said, and went back down the hallway, remembering in time to stop in the bathroom to rewet the washcloth. 

“I thought _Steve_ looked like shit,” he heard Bucky say, and followed him in. Loki’s eyes were open, though just barely; he still let out a huff of a laugh.

“Thank _you,_ ” he said. Was it Steve’s imagination, or was there a faint rasp in his voice? “I’m flattered.” 

“Least you’re actually resting,” Bucky said. “Not running around full-throttle insisting you’re not sick. Not that I know anyone who’d do that.” He gave Steve a pointed look, and Steve shook his head. 

“Don’t give him that much credit,” he said. 

“Yeah,” Bucky said after a moment. “I guess I should’ve figured that.” He frowned. “Your breathing sounds funny.”

Loki shot Steve an accusatory look. “You are both,” he said, “worse than a mother hen brooding over her eggs. My breathing is fine. I’m not about to suffocate.” Bucky made a sort of ‘hmm’ noise, eyes narrowed, and Loki looked like he wanted to growl. “For the Norns’ _sake,_ James. You’d think I was dying.” 

“You’re not,” Steve said quickly, maybe too quickly. “But you’re not well, either, and considering no one knows exactly what this thing is or how it’s going to progress–”

“Yes, yes,” Loki said, suddenly tired again. “You have license to worry.” He pressed his fingers to his temples, and Steve frowned. 

“Headache again?” He remembered the washcloth and walked over to lay it on Loki’s forehead; the relieved sigh he let out was gratifying.

“Not exactly uncommon,” Loki said. “It might not even have anything to do with this illness.”

Bucky made another ‘hmm’ sound. Loki exhaled through his nose. “I’ve always been prone to headaches,” he said. “More so when I was ill, true, but it’s never seemed to be a symptom.”

“Nothing saying it can’t be both,” Bucky said a little darkly. He glanced at Steve. “Have you made a list of symptoms? Progression?” 

“Are _you_ a healer, James?” Loki asked, a little sharp. “I wasn’t aware.”

“No,” Bucky said evenly, “but I grew up with _this_ guy,” he gestured at Steve, “who was an incubator for every disease in Brooklyn. So if you’re not going to see an actual doctor...maybe you could at least make sure one has the right information.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Steve protested.

“Yes,” Bucky said. “You were.”

“If the two of you don’t _mind,_ ” Loki said, and his voice sounded tighter, though this time Steve didn’t think it was anger. “I am tired, and my head hurts, and if you are so concerned about my well-being you might carry on this conversation elsewhere.”

Steve gave Loki a worried look and adjusted the washcloth. Touching Loki’s cheek, he felt alarmingly warm, and Steve wished he had a thermometer - of course, then he’d need to know what Loki’s base temperature was to begin with. “You should eat something before too long,” he said. “Toast, or some of Wanda’s soup…” 

“Later,” Loki said. He turned his face toward Steve and gave him a weak smile. “Be at ease, Steve. I suspect this will be the worst of it. After my childhood, every illness I’ve caught has been driven off within, at most, a couple of days.”

 _Famous last words,_ Steve thought unhappily, but he hunted down a weak smile of his own and retreated.

* * *

Shuri arrived after an hour or so in which Loki didn’t so much as stir; when Steve poked his head in he was fast asleep, mouth open, and seemed peaceful enough that Steve didn’t want to disturb him. 

The first thing Steve registered when he let Shuri in was that she looked worried. “What is it?” he asked promptly. “Did you find out something new?” 

“Not exactly,” she hedged. “I sent some samples to the hospital in Birnin Zana for analysis. They say that whatever the organism is, it’s not bacterial or viral, and without a live sample it’s hard to say how it works.” She glanced down the hall. “They did confirm it doesn’t infect humans. So that’s the good news.” 

“The bad news being that they don’t know what it is, and therefore don’t know how to treat it,” Steve said. 

“Well, that,” Shuri said, “and the fact that Loki’s sick already, and came down with it fast. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything about how nasty it is, but it does mean that it works quickly.” She paused. “Which means that...if it _is_ nasty, we might not have a lot of time.” 

Steve went cold, his stomach lurching into his throat. “Oh,” he said faintly. Much as he’d been trying, with middling success, not to let the thought cross his mind...hearing Shuri voice it felt worse.

He took a deep breath and made himself nod. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll…” He trailed off as Loki emerged from the bedroom wrapped in a green fleece robe.

“Talking about me behind my back?” he said, and oh, there was definitely a rasp now. Shuri looked startled for a moment before she covered it, and Steve found himself looking at Loki as he must seem through her eyes, when she’d probably only ever seen him perfectly composed and well put together. Not with his hair in messy curls and looking like - well, like he’d just crawled out of a sickbed.

“You didn’t have to get up,” Shuri said. Loki let out a huff of breath.

“Not you, too,” he said, but he didn’t sound very emphatic about it, more like it was an objection he was making for form. He walked over to the kitchen and refilled the glass of water he was holding, then turned. “What do you need, Princess?” 

“I’m not a doctor,” she said. “I feel like I should say that again. I’ve picked up some things here and there but it isn’t really my field of study. I’m working with other people whose it _is,_ and they’d know better than me what we’re looking at.” 

“Your disclaimer is heard,” Loki said. He leaned against the counter. Shuri made a face.

“Well, as long as it is,” she said. “This would be easier if you’d let me at least take a saliva sample back to them. I wouldn’t let it out of my sight and I’d make sure it was destroyed the minute we didn’t need it anymore.” 

Loki’s eyes moved to Steve and then back to Shuri. He looked tense, and Steve braced for him to snap at her again, but finally he said, “fine. With your oath that it will be as you’ve said.”

Shuri crossed her arms over her chest. “It will be,” she said, sounding suddenly much more royal. “I swear it.” Loki inclined his head and she let her arms drop to her sides, visibly relieved. “All right, I brought some stuff - and then you can talk me through your symptoms so I can write everything down.” 

While they talked, Steve heated up some of Wanda’s soup, feeling a need to make himself useful. He watched Loki closely, hearing Shuri saying _we might not have a lot of time_ in the back of his head.

He brought two bowls over and held them out. “Here,” he said. “Wanda made it,” he said to Shuri. “It’s good.”

Loki looked pained. “Must I?” he said. Shuri paused in blowing on the surface of her soup.

“Loss of appetite?” She asked. Loki looked briefly irritated. 

“I am just not hungry at the moment. And my stomach was...unsettled, this morning.” 

Shuri set down the soup and picked up her tablet. “Decreased appetite, nausea - vomiting?” 

“Princess,” Loki said, and she shook her head.

“You asked for me, you got me,” she said. “And if I can’t fix you - _yet -_ I at least need all the information.”

“Fine,” Loki said after a beat, sounding thoroughly longsuffering. “Yes, all of the above. I still don’t want the soup.”

“You should still eat it,” Shuri said, before Steve could. “You need the energy for your immune system to work properly. At least - I assume.” She looked speculative. “I guess we don’t know exactly how yours _does_ work–”

Steve saw Loki tense and interrupted before Shuri could get into dangerous waters. “She’s right,” he said. “You _do_ need the energy. Just...have a little.”

Loki sighed and picked up the bowl of soup, though he didn’t immediately make to eat any of it. Steve held in a sigh of his own and told himself not to push. The quickest way to get Loki to balk was to push him too hard. 

To a certain extent, he was going to have to trust that Loki would take care of himself.

To a certain extent. Steve wasn’t going to take that too far.

* * *

Shuri took a lot of notes, and then excused herself, taking with her the cheek swabs she’d had Loki take. “I’ll tell you as soon as I know anything,” she said.

“Thank you,” Steve said. Loki had been drooping for the last half hour of her visit, and now looked on the verge of drifting off. Steve sat down next to him and put a hand on the back of his neck. 

“Mm. Feels nice.” Loki leaned toward him, his eyes half closed. “Thank you.”

“For what?” 

“For taking care of me,” Loki said. “For being patient and not recoiling in disgust from my frankly currently rather disgusting self.”

“You aren’t disgusting,” Steve said. Loki just made a sort of ‘mmm’ noise. One of his hands drifted up and started rubbing at his chest. Steve noticed it and frowned. 

“Aching?” he asked worriedly, and Loki quickly dropped his hand.

“A little,” he said after a moment in which Steve thought he was weighing lying. He was not a little glad that he didn’t. 

“Did you mention that to Shuri?” 

“It just started.” Loki’s head dropped onto his shoulder and he blinked slowly, like he was struggling to keep his eyelids up. 

“So, no,” Steve said. Loki gave him a weary look.

“You can tell her. I’m tired.” He certainly sounded it. Exhausted, and considering how much he’d been sleeping the past couple of days...but that was probably just what his body needed to heal. 

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough,” Steve said quietly. Loki sighed out slowly. He was rubbing his chest again, though he didn’t seem to realize he was doing it. 

“Mm,” he said again. “It’ll be all right, Steve. I’m not going to leave you.” He closed his eyes. His face was nearly colorless except for a feverish flush on his cheeks. 

_If it is nasty, we might not have a lot of time._

Steve closed his own eyes, sent up a brief prayer, and settled in. It didn’t seem like Loki was going to budge anytime soon; he might as well take a nap too.

* * *

Over the next twelve hours, the congestion in Loki’s lungs turned into a faint rattle turned into a cough. His fever didn’t lower, and he spent most of that time asleep. Steve called Shuri, but she hadn’t made much progress. 

Listening to Loki breathe, listening to his cough that sometimes turned into fits that seemed to last far too long and left him breathing hard, had Steve’s own chest tightening with fear. He remembered coming down with pneumonia, once. It’d been maybe the closest he’d come to dying as a kid. Hearing Loki sound like he did now brought all of that back.

Fever or not, he’d managed to wrangle Loki into a hot bath in the hope that the steam might help his lungs when he heard a knock on their door. Loki turned half toward it and started to get up.

“No, nope,” Steve said quickly. “You stay here. I’ll get it. Just...breathe the steam.”

Loki frowned at him, but he didn’t argue, sinking back down into the water. That probably should have just been a relief, but Steve couldn’t help but find it worrying. When Loki started acting sensible it often meant he was just feeling too badly to fight. 

He left Loki to soak and went to open the door. It was Sam and Wanda, Sam carrying a bag of something that sounded absolutely delicious. “Wow,” he said. “Bucky was right. You _do_ look like shit.” 

“Thanks,” Steve said flatly. 

“Don’t sound like that. I brought you food from outside. And an invitation to take a break.”

“Where’s Loki?” Wanda asked. Steve gestured down the hall.

“Taking a bath,” he said. “Hopefully clearing his lungs some. What kind of food?” 

“Muchomo,” Wanda said, “and fried plantains. He hasn’t gotten any better?” 

“Not really,” Steve said, so he didn’t say _he’s gotten worse._ He didn’t want to worry Wanda too much. Sam frowned at him, though. 

“‘Not really’ or ‘no?’” he said. 

“No,” Steve said after a moment. “He hasn’t.” He stepped back. “If you want to come in…”

“Won’t say no,” Sam said. “Especially if you’ll share some of the plantains.” 

“Sure. I’m just going to go tell Loki you’re here.” 

Steve left them to unpack the food and went back to the bathroom, tapping lightly against the door before going in. Loki’s eyes were closed, and the lids looked bruised.

“Loki?” Steve said, and Loki started, his eyes opening again. “Sam and Wanda are here,” he said. 

“Oh,” Loki said after a moment in which he seemed to be processing what Steve was saying. “Give me a moment and I’ll…” 

“That’s okay,” Steve said quickly. “If you’re comfortable, stay here. They’re not going to hold it against you.” 

Loki only hesitated a moment before nodding. He coughed, cleared his throat, and grimaced. “Tell them to...forgive me my rudeness.”

“Nobody’s going to think you’re rude,” Steve said. Loki examined him, gaze seeming to focus a bit more. 

“You should go out,” he said. “While they’re here.”

“What?” Steve said.

“You’ve been trapped in here with me...how long?” Loki asked. “You need some fresh air. A walk. All I’m going to do is sleep, and if it would set your mind at ease you can ask the witchling or Sam to stay.” He sounded reasonable, and relatively clear, though when he stopped speaking it was to cough, and it seemed to take him a while to stop.

He didn’t want to leave Loki here...not on his own, but where Steve couldn’t see him. But at the same time he could see the sense in it. And he thought of Thor - he must be wanting an update, since he apparently still hadn’t been cleared. He had to be worried. 

“They brought some food,” Steve said. “I’m going to eat some, and wait until you’re ready to get out of the bath, and then...if Wanda or Sam are good to stay, I’ll go. But not for long, and if you need anything at all–”

Loki smiled crookedly, wearily. “I’ll call.”

“You’d better.” Steve kissed his forehead and went back out. The food smelled even better than it had in the bag, and Wanda smiled at him. Sam pulled out a chair with his foot.

“Sit down, Rogers,” he said. “Eat some food and relax a little.” 

“Thanks,” he said, with a smile that felt weak but was still real. “Loki suggested I take a break. Don’t suppose after eating one of you would be okay with sticking around here for a bit just to...I know it’s stupid, but I don’t want to leave him on his own.”

Sam looked down the hall with a bit of a frown. “Heard the cough. Doesn’t sound great.”

Steve rubbed his eyes. “And he’s still running a fever. Or, it feels like it. I don’t know because I don’t know what’s normal for him, and nobody else does, and Loki won’t see an actual doctor anyway–” He cut off. Sam’s eyebrows were a little raised.

“Been holding that in, have you,” he said. Steve sighed and put his head in his hands.

“I guess I’m a little tired,” he said. “And stressed. And I just wish…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. _Would_ one of you be willing to stay? Just for an hour or so.”

Sam glanced at Wanda, who said promptly, “of course. I’d be happy to.” 

“I’ll stick around with you,” Sam said. “Get your brother to join and we can have a party. Give Steve a break.” He gave Steve a bit of a smile. “Indulge yourself and take two hours. You’re worth it.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve said. “I know when I’m outflanked.”

“Smart man,” Sam said. “Eat some muchomo first, though. It’s really, really good.”

* * *

The food was good, and taking a shower and stepping outside was good, too. Steve felt vaguely guilty for his relief, but it wasn’t like he was leaving forever, and at least when he’d left Loki was resting fairly peacefully, the cough having eased off a little. The fever even seemed lower. 

Steve wouldn’t do Loki any good if he burned out. 

He went to the garden to soak up some sun for a while, then drifted back inside and went looking for Thor. 

He found him in company with Jane, Clint, and Valkyrie, Clint and Jane watching Thor and Valkyrie play some kind of video game. Thor looked up when Steve knocked and almost dropped the controller.

“Is there news?” He asked, with a mixture of eagerness and alarm. Steve shook his head. 

“Not really,” he said. “I’m just taking a break. By order of Loki and Sam.” 

Clint leaned over and hit pause. “Hey,” Valkyrie said. “I was about to win that.”

“Because Thor stopped playing,” Clint said. “Loki’s still out with the space plague? I would’ve thought T’Challa’s kid sister would’ve worked out a cure by now.”

Steve shook his head. “Not yet. I get the impression it’s...not like anything we have around here.”

“No shit,” Clint said. “It’s from _space._ ”

Steve looked at Thor, who had an expression on his face of deep worry, frustration and distress. “Do you know if you can come visit yet?” 

Thor pressed his lips together. “Shuri recommended that I not,” he said. “At least not until she’s more certain about how the disease works. She says that it...doesn’t seem as infective to me or Valkyrie as it apparently is to Loki, but…”

“But better not to take chances,” Steve finished. “I’m sorry, Thor.”

Jane shifted, sitting up. “But he’s going to be okay, right?” she said. “I mean, it’s awful, but…”

“Right,” Steve said, trying to dredge up a smile. “Loki’ll be fine.” 

There was a silence. 

“Jesus,” Clint said. “Steve, you’ve...really got to work on your reassuring voice.” Thor looked stricken, and Jane’s eyes had gone a little wide. Steve pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“It’s been a long week,” he said. “I’m not...I’m just worried, that’s all. And tired. Don’t…” He looked at Thor, who stood up.

“I’m going to see Loki,” he said, voice strident.

“Thor–”

“I don’t care if there’s a risk,” Thor said passionately. “I should _be_ there.”

“And get sick too?” Clint said. “Who’ll that help?” Thor rounded on him, and Clint held up his hands. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just pointing out that you’re not a doctor, and if you come down with this plague that’s not going to do anything for Loki.”

Thor’s eyes narrowed, but Valkyrie said, “he’s right. What’re you going to do?”

“ _Be there,_ ” Thor said. Jane looked a little stricken, glancing at Thor and then at Steve. 

“What about...what about giving it another day?” she said. “Maybe by then it’ll be clearer how this thing spreads, and how vulnerable you are - or maybe the doctors will have figured out a treatment.” She glanced at Steve. “Would that...be better?”

She was asking, Steve realized, if that was going to be too late. 

His stomach swooped and he felt lightheaded. “Yeah,” he said, his tongue stumbling a little. “That’d work. And would be - a good idea. Thor…” He swallowed hard and said, “Loki _is_ pretty sick. But he’s going to be okay. He was the one who chased me out and told me to take a break.”

Had he really sounded that bad? Or did Jane know something that he didn’t, some word from Shuri or the other scientists that no one had said to Steve?

No. _No._ He was just scared and it was showing in his voice. 

“Steve’s a worrier, Thor,” Clint said. “Don’t let him scare you. Loki’s like a–” he paused, glanced at Steve, and said, “more-appealing cockroach. Practically indestructible.”

“You’re comparing my brother to a _cockroach,_ ” Thor said, but he looked a little like he was about to go for the door. Clint shrugged. 

“In terms of survivability, anyway,” he said. “Loki’ll shake this. Or Wakanda’s doctors will. If anyone on Earth can cure a space plague, they can.”

Thor sank slowly back down. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Whatever happens. I’m done staying away.”

“Okay,” Steve said, because he couldn’t argue anymore. If he were Thor right now…

The urge was overpowering to go back, to see Loki and touch him and listen to his breathing, however strained it was. He thought of watching his mother die drowning in her lungs and felt like _he_ couldn’t breathe.

He pushed it down, reminding himself that Sam had his number, that he wasn’t far, that he probably _did_ need a break. He tried to force a smile. “Do you guys mind if I stay a bit? Like I said, I got kicked out.”

“Of course,” Thor said. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his smile was painfully strained, but he made the attempt. “As long as you please.” 

_It’ll be okay,_ he wanted to say to Thor, but he was very much afraid that saying so meant that it wouldn’t be.

* * *

Loki was sleeping when Steve came back, but he stirred when Steve checked his forehead. It felt like his fever was up again, but though his eyes were bleary they focused on Steve’s face.

“Steve,” he said, with a small and slightly shaky smile.

“Hey,” Steve said. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Wretched,” Loki said. He coughed wetly. “I wish…”

Steve sat down on the bed. “Wish what?” He asked gently.

Loki took a rattling breath. “I wish you were really here,” he said. 

Steve’s throat closed for a moment. “I am,” he said, when he could speak. “I _am_ here.”

Loki sighed and shook his head a little, but he didn’t answer, and his strained breathing slowed as he slipped back into sleep. Steve looked down at him, heart in his throat. It was the first time Loki seemed to have lost track of where he was, or what was happening. Confusion, delirium. Signs the fever was starting to affect his brain?

_Please, no._

Steve took a deep breath and crawled into bed next to Loki. He felt like a furnace, and after a moment Steve got up and brought back some ice packs from the freezer, pressing one against the back of Loki’s neck and another under the small of his back. Loki’s sigh sounded relieved, so at least it felt good. Maybe it would help. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

In her last days, his ma had barely been conscious at all. She’d known what was happening, though. She’d told him she loved him, and that he’d be all right. That she loved him, again.

And then she’d been gone. Just like that. 

Steve’s eyes burned, and he closed them. This wasn’t 1936. Shuri would come through. Loki’d be well enough soon to be annoyed by Steve’s fussing. It’d be all right. 

God, it had to be. 

* * *

At first when Steve woke up he wasn’t sure why. 

Then he realized what he was hearing was the sound of someone trying to breathe with lungs full of fluid and came the rest of the way awake hard and fast. Loki was sitting up, eyes wide and panicked, and panic threatened to swamp Steve as well.

He reached over and groped to turn on the light. “Lie back,” he said, remembering something his ma had done once when he was struggling to cough up what he needed to. He fanned out his hands under Loki’s ribs and pushed down, trying desperately to hold down his own fear. 

Loki choked and then did cough, and Steve did it again, and again, until Loki wheezed in what sounded like a clearer breath before one last deep cough that brought up something a nasty color green, threaded, Steve noticed, with red. 

His heart was pounding. But at least Loki was breathing again.

“Loki,” he said, his voice shaking a little. Loki made a faint sound.

“Steve,” he said, in a voice that barely sounded like his. “I want - I want to go home. Can we...”

Steve’s heart clenched. _Where,_ he thought. _Where is home for you?_ “It’s okay,” Steve said.

“The cabin in the woods,” Loki said. “Can we go there?” 

Steve swallowed hard. It was the middle of the night, but…

He called Shuri. She answered quickly, and to his relief she looked like she’d already been awake. Well, relief until he realized what time it was and that she probably _should’ve_ been sleeping, but there wasn’t much room in him to think about that right now.

“Tell me you’re making progress,” he said. “He’s just getting worse.” Loki rolled to his side and curled up against Steve. 

“Actually,” Shuri said, “yes. I think…” She hesitated. “I think I might have some answers. I was going to wait until morning, but…”

“Please,” Steve said. “Come if you can.”

“Give me an hour,” she said, and cut the connection. Steve looked down at Loki.

“Steve,” Loki said suddenly. “You need to - you need to go. Thanos is coming.” 

“No,” Steve said, as gently as he could. “He’s not. We’re safe.” _Except from the disease that’s slowly killing you._

“He said,” Loki said. “In my - in my head.” He coughed, hacking up another blood-streaked gob of mucus. “He’s going to kill you first, and then the rest of you, and make me watch–”

For a second Steve felt a chill down his spine, wondering if it was true - but no, he couldn’t assume that, not when Loki was feverish and delirious. “It was a dream,” Steve said. “Just a fever dream.”

“Please,” Loki said, desperate and plaintive. “I don’t want to watch you die. I don’t want to watch any of you...” His voice broke off. He was shivering though Steve could feel the burn of his fever, breaths short and shallow, sucking for oxygen he couldn’t get enough of.

“It’s okay,” Steve said. His eyes burned, and he checked the time. Shuri had said she had answers, but not a cure. He was afraid answers might not be enough. “Loki, it’s okay. Just try to relax. Focus on breathing. Okay? Just...breathe.” 

Loki nodded shakily. Steve stacked some pillows to prop him up, hoping it might help, and watched the minutes tick by.

Shuri arrived in just under an hour. Steve got up to greet her, trying not to think _he’s going to stop breathing as soon as you leave the room_ , and if he must have looked like hell, at least she didn’t comment.

“You said you had answers,” he said, hearing the desperation in his own voice and unable to be ashamed. “Does that mean you have a cure?” 

“Not...exactly,” Shuri said, and Steve felt a wave of frustration he tried to shove down. She went on quickly, “but I have something. An idea.” She bit her lip, the expression making her look younger than she was, and Steve could see her exhaustion as well. 

“Shuri,” he said, before jumping forward, “thank you.”

She shook her head. “I’m just trying to help.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “the challenge...one of the challenges has been identifying exactly what we’re dealing with. What kind of life form, because it’s not like anything we’ve seen before, and how it functions. How it infects, and how it works on the body.”

Steve nodded, trying not to look impatient. He glanced toward the bedroom, and Shuri paused and said, “do you want to…”

Steve smiled weakly and unhappily. “I’ll feel better if I can keep an eye on him,” he said, and went back. It smelled like a sickroom, but Shuri didn’t flinch, at least not until she glanced over toward Loki and then quickly looked away. He didn’t open his eyes or react to her arrival.

“Go ahead,” Steve said. 

“Right,” Shuri said. “Okay - it’s the strangest thing. I found...I _think_ we found the organism that’s causing this, though even calling it an organism...but it certainly seems to be alive. But the thing is - there’s no obvious mechanism of reproduction. At least, not on its own - it just sits there, inert. But give it a bit of _Thor’s_ blood, and it starts multiplying - at least, for about five minutes. Then it stops. But with Loki...it doesn’t stop.” 

She paused, and then looked at Steve. “The funny thing is that it doesn’t happen at all with Valkyrie. So why Thor and Loki, but not her? And what causes the reproductive explosion?”

She paused, and took a deep breath. “I think it’s magic. I think that, somehow, this thing has figured out how to use magic as an energy source for its growth. Thor has some of his own, right? Loki’s said that - just that he hasn’t developed it. And it’d make sense that, however that works, it wouldn’t necessarily sustain long term separated from the source.”

“Wanda,” Steve said, suddenly anxious. Shuri shook her head.

“For whatever reason, it doesn’t seem to latch onto her in the same way. Loki says her magic is different from his. Or it could be she’s human. But either way - then there’s Loki.” 

Loki. Who had magic woven into every fiber of his being, who was, in his own words, among the most powerful sorcerers alive. For a bacterium, or whatever it was, that fed on magic...he must be a feast. 

And Loki used his magic to heal himself. The more power he expended on trying to mend his body, the more fuel he was providing the fire. The stronger the sickness got, the more his body would try to defend itself with the strongest resource it had, making it stronger still. 

Whatever the look was on his face, Shuri said, “I know.” Her expression was serious, worried. Steve took a deep breath. 

“It won’t stop,” he said. “It’ll just keep growing using Loki’s magic until there’s nothing left, and he…” Dies. He couldn’t say it. 

“There’s something we can try,” Shuri said. “Something we _have_ to.” She took a deep breath. “If we can cut off its energy source, then it’ll starve. Go inert, and then Loki’s immune system could clear it out without it hijacking his defenses.”

“Cut off its energy source,” Steve said. “Loki’s magic.” Shuri nodded, barely. “You want to...cut Loki off from his magic.” He shook his head. “I don’t know if that’s even possible. The way he describes it - magic’s not just something he _has,_ it’s part of him.”

“So maybe we can’t completely cut him off,” Shuri said, and she started to look uneasy, biting at her lip. “But...we know it can be suppressed, to some extent.” 

Oh. Steve saw what she was driving at now. His stomach started to churn. She was right: they did know that. Asgard had done it, but more than that, people here. Or, one person, and the knowledge hadn’t died with him. “You’re talking about using Victor von Doom’s tech,” he said.

“Not - exactly,” Shuri said. “Just...something that does the same kind of thing.”

 _No,_ Steve wanted to say. _Absolutely not, do you have any idea the kind of memories you’d be bringing back, he’s already delirious, and when he learns you did this he’ll never trust you again._

(He wasn’t sure if the _you_ he was thinking of was Shuri or himself.)

But he thought of the sound of Loki trying to breathe with his lungs full of fluid, fighting a futile battle with his own strength turned against him. This disease was sucking him dry and he couldn’t beat it without intervention. 

“Is there even time?” he heard himself ask. “To figure out how to make something that’d work…” he trailed off. “You already have.” 

“It’s not done,” Shuri said. “I - started yesterday, but then I...I wanted to ask.” She looked very young. “I know he won’t be happy I did it. But me, you, and T’Challa are the only ones who know it exists. I made it alone. And as soon as this is over, I’m going to let him destroy it.” 

Steve nodded, though he wondered, privately, if it would be enough. “All right,” he said. “It’s...it seems like the best option we have.”

“Give me just a few hours,” Shuri said. “I’ll be there.”

Steve walked back to Loki, who was shivering under the covers, his lips nearly colorless. His breathing sounded wet, and as Steve reached out to check his temperature he started coughing again, deep and productive, his whole body shaking with each one. 

When he stopped, gasping for breath, his eyes were open to slivers. “Steve,” he said, half a question.

“Right here,” Steve said. “I’m right here.” 

“Don’t go,” Loki mumbled, his voice rasping; his throat must be raw from the cough. “Please don’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve said fiercely, but he wasn’t sure if Loki heard him. His eyes drifted closed again. “Loki,” Steve said, trying to pull him back. “Can you listen to me?”

“Mm,” Loki said. Steve took a deep breath.

“Shuri thinks she might have figured something out. About what’s happening to you. She says this disease is - is using your magic to feed itself. We might...we might need to suppress it so you can heal.” 

Loki moaned faintly, his head twisting to the side, taking shallow, gasping breaths that had Steve’s chest aching in sympathy. “Steve,” he said again. “I can’t - can’t–”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek and closed his eyes. “It’s okay,” he said. “Loki, it’s okay. Just...hang in there. And trust me.”

He took a deep breath, dragged a hand down his face, and put in a call to Thor.

“You should come,” Steve said, which were the only words he got out before Thor simply said, “yes,” and cut the connection. 

After a moment, he called Wanda, too. 

“Steve?” she said, voice blurry with sleep.

“I’m sorry for waking you up,” he said, “but…something’s happening with Loki and I think we might need your help.” He hoped not. He didn’t want to think that it could be that bad. But even sick, even weak, he knew the kind of reservoirs of strength Loki could draw on when he was afraid. He and Thor should be enough, but Wanda...in some ways, her methods might be gentler. 

He wished he could just _explain._ Tell Loki what was going on, ask permission. At least make sure he knew what was going to happen. But Loki wouldn’t - couldn’t - understand. Not right now, not in his condition. 

“Of course,” Wanda said promptly. “I’ll be right there - no, Pietro, stay. You’re not going to help.” She didn’t ask either. Trusting in him.

Loki would forgive him, Steve told himself. When he was well.

“I’ll see you soon,” Steve said, just as he heard a loud knock and Thor’s voice saying, “Steve?”

He glanced at Loki, who coughed once and then rolled to his side, subsiding. “Come in,” he said. Thor’s quick steps came down the hall and his eyes went immediately to Loki in the bed, the color leaving his face. He made a sound at the back of his throat, eyes widening, and strode over, dropping to his knees and reaching out to touch Loki’s face. 

“Norns,” he said faintly. “Loki…”

“He’s not really - coherent,” Steve said, his voice wobbling a little. Thor’s head swiveled around to look at him and Steve almost flinched at the raw look in his eyes. “He’s not - I didn’t call you here because - Shuri thinks she might have something that’ll work,” Steve said quickly, and some of the rawness ebbed a little.

“What?” he asked simply, not moving to rise. Steve hovered in the doorway, suddenly unwilling to explain. 

“She says the sickness is...it’s using his magic to feed itself,” he said. “So to give him a fighting chance...we need to starve it out.” 

To his relief, Steve didn’t need to say more than that. The shift in Thor’s expression said that he understood, and that he understood what it meant, and what Steve wasn’t saying. He didn’t question Shuri’s ability, or challenge Steve’s decision, or any of the things Steve had privately feared he would do. 

He just pressed his lips together and nodded, then looked back at Loki, his eyebrows furrowed. “Brother,” he said, very quietly. “Can you hear me?” 

Loki didn’t answer, breathing in shallow gasps with his mouth open.

Wanda came only a bit after, and Steve was pathetically grateful for her immediate embrace. She absorbed his explanation of what was going on as well, and if she looked uncertain, a little uneasy, she nodded. 

Then it was just a waiting game. Wanda made some tea, and after some consideration Steve moved Loki out to the couch. He roused a little when Steve picked him up with a small noise like the one Váli made sometimes. 

“Hey,” Steve said quietly. Loki turned his face toward Steve’s collarbone. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t...I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to what?” Steve said, mostly trying to keep him present, but Loki had already faded out again. He wondered if he should let Bucky know, or Sam, but having too many people here seemed like a bad idea. 

Thor paced back and forth, periodically kneeling down next to Loki and saying something to him in a low voice, or maybe it was an Asgardian prayer. Wanda hovered, fidgeting with her rings. Steve listened to every one of Loki’s inhales with the terrible feeling like he was waiting for them to stop. 

After what seemed like forever, Shuri arrived. The bag she was carrying was surprisingly small, and Steve eyed it with surprise; she gave him a wan smile. “Good things come in small packages,” she said. “Or, well–” She grimaced. Steve shook his head and stepped back. 

“Come in,” he said. “Let’s…” He didn’t want to say _get this over with._ Shuri gave him a short nod, though, and stepped inside. She glanced at Wanda and Thor, and Steve said, “I told them to come in case we needed...help.” 

“Yes,” Shuri said. “Well - hello to you both. I’m going to set up - this shouldn’t take long.”

“Do you want some tea?” Wanda asked, sounding almost hopeful. 

“No, thank you,” Shuri said absently, already unpacking the bag she’d brought. “Maybe after...maybe after.” She glanced at Loki, and then back at what she was doing. 

The machine she’d built...it looked elegant. Steve supposed he shouldn’t be surprised; he hadn’t seen a one of Shuri’s designs that wasn’t. Still, for something with the ugly history this kind of technology had, he’d expected something uglier. But it was small, refined, and quickly set up on an end table. 

“Is there a radius?” Steve asked. 

“Fifty feet,” Shuri said. She glanced at Thor and Wanda, eyebrows knitting together. “Is this going to bother…”

“No,” Thor said. “Even if it does affect me...it won’t be as it does Loki.”

“And apparently my magic works differently than his,” Wanda said. “As he kept telling me.” Her smile was weak, clearly forced.

“All right, then,” Shuri said, seeming relieved. “I guess we should just…” She looked at Loki, and then at Steve. He made himself nod. 

This would work. It had to. 

Shuri turned the machine on. 

Almost immediately, Loki’s eyes snapped open and he screamed. “No,” he said, howled. “No, no, _don’t you dare–_ ” 

Steve lunged for him, took his shoulders as he tried to sit up. “Loki,” he said urgently. “Loki, it’s me, it’s Steve.” Loki strained against Steve’s hands and he was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that it was only Loki’s weakened state that kept him from throwing Steve off - and, probably, across the room. His lips peeled back from his teeth in a feral snarl.

“It’s mine,” he said. “It’s mine, you cannot take it from me.” His hands started to lift only to be caught by red tendrils of magic; Steve turned his head and saw Wanda with her hands raised, her face white. Loki was breathing hard and fast, his eyes wide open, full of fear and rage and rolling as he twisted, trying to get free. 

“Loki,” Steve said desperately, “it’s all right. I swear, we’re trying to help, you’re not - you’re safe.” Loki didn’t seem to hear him, breathing faster and faster, ragged and strained until he started coughing, spasms that wracked his whole body. He turned his head and hacked up mucus that was an ugly dark red, then went limp, struggling for air.

Steve looked toward Shuri. Her expression was stricken in a way that made her look younger than usual. Wanda looked pale and shaken too, though her magic had vanished. 

“How do we know if it’s working?” Thor asked, his voice brassy and unhappy. “If it’s helping him get better?” 

“I think we just have to wait,” Steve said. His voice sounded shaky. He didn’t pull away from Loki. His eyelids fluttered like his eyes were about to open, then stopped. Steve wondered how much he heard, or understood. 

“ _Wait,_ ” Thor said. “You mean that we don’t even know if this will work?”

“Not for certain,” Shuri said, her voice small. “But it _should._ The theory’s sound. If I had more time to - but I didn’t. We don’t.” She glanced at Loki, and then said, “I’m going to go.”

None of this could be easy for her, Steve thought. She was smart, but she was still a _kid._ And he’d been leaning on her hard. “Thank you,” he said. “Shuri...if there’s anything I can do…”

She gave him another one of those tight, wan smiles. “Keep me updated? I’ll...I’ll come back and check in soon.”

After she’d gone, Wanda looked back and forth between the two of them and said, “I’ll come back tomorrow. Steve…” She hesitated, then came over and hugged him again, tightly. 

Then it was just him and Thor again, and Loki, who started coughing again. He gagged, and for a moment Steve thought he was going to vomit, but he didn’t. 

The way Thor looked at his brother was painful. Fear and anguish and dread all mixed together, and Steve wondered if he looked like that.

“May I stay?” Thor asked, at length. 

“Of course,” Steve said. He didn’t think there was any point in trying to keep Thor out now, even if he’d been willing to try.

* * *

Loki didn’t get worse.

He didn’t get better, but he didn’t get worse, and it felt like that was about all that Steve could say for the situation as it stood. 

People rotated in and out of the room. Their faces seemed to blur together, though Steve remembered Sam practically pushing him into bed, where he stayed for a few hours before he was up again. Thor was there most of the time, but not always. Shuri came by, but she seemed uncertain about whether or not she belonged.

Clint showed up with Wanda once, which was surprising; Natasha came on her own.

“Hey,” she said. “How’re you holding up?” 

“Fine,” Steve said. He wasn’t the one lying practically comatose on the couch, hovering on the edge of something worse. Natasha didn’t seem convinced, or comforted. 

“You don’t have to be,” she said. “Your - husband is sick. You can be _not_ fine, you know.” 

_I really can’t._ Steve looked at the machine humming away and nodded. “I know.”

Natasha sighed. She followed his gaze and gestured at it. “Shuri made that?”

“She did,” Steve said. 

“Smart kid.” Natasha glanced at Loki, very briefly, and back at Steve. “It keeps his magic on lockdown? Like…”

“Like what Doom did,” Steve said. “She’s going to let Loki destroy it as soon as he’s better.” He heard the defensiveness in his own voice and wanted to wince. Natasha raised an eyebrow in his direction, but nodded. 

After a moment she did say, quietly, “if she made it once she could do it again.” 

_I know. Loki will know, too. I’m not sure what he’ll do with that knowledge._ Steve stayed silent, and Natasha reached out and squeezed his arm. 

“He’ll pull through,” she said. “He’s survived this much. A cat would be jealous.” She left not long after, though. Uncomfortable, Steve thought, and he wondered if it was with Loki, a sickroom, or Steve. Their relationship now was...good, but not the same as it had been before everything with the Accords, and he wasn’t exactly the best company right now anyway.

“Steve?” 

Steve lurched around. Loki’s eyes were open and he seemed to be trying to sit up. Steve hurried over. “Hey,” he said. “It’s me - lie back, it’s okay.”

Loki gasped a couple unsteady breaths. “Hurts,” he said.

“I know,” Steve said, his throat closing again. “I know. You need to eat something - drink something–”

Loki shook his head. “I don’t want…” His inhale rattled. “Something’s. Something’s wrong with…”

He started coughing, hacking like he was try to expel his own lungs. Steve helped him sit up a little and could feel the heat of Loki’s back, the rapid beat of his heart as his body shook with the force of each cough.

Loki’s chest heaved even after the fit subsided. “Let me get you some water,” Steve said, deciding to leave the question of food alone for the moment. Loki made a sort of “mmmn” sound that he took for agreement, and he went and filled a glass from the sink.

Loki had closed his eyes again, but they opened as Steve approached. “Here,” he said. “Drink–”

Lips peeling back from his teeth, Loki let out a guttural snarl, his expression suddenly twisting into something vicious and angry. “I won’t - take anything from you,” he rasped, and Steve froze, his throat closing. 

“Why not,” he said carefully, because Loki was confused, had to be confused, he didn’t just - suddenly hate Steve. Couldn’t. 

“I won’t take anything from you,” Loki said, vicious, “just as you won’t get anything from _me._ That you’d - that you’d dare–” He broke off into coughing again. “Crack my chest open and paw at my insides but you will never - will never–” He broke off, his head lolling to the side and eyelids fluttering, and Steve heard himself make a small sound. Of course. Confused, in pain, one of Loki’s many ghosts had come back to plague him. 

“Loki,” Steve said gently, laying a hand on Loki’s overheated forehead and wondering desperately how much longer this was going to go on. “Listen to me. It’s me, Steve. You’re not there. You’re safe.” 

“Captain?” Loki’s voice changed, smaller, raw. “Captain, help me, please. If you need me to beg–”

A knife twisted in Steve’s chest. “No,” he said, when he recovered his breath. “No, of course you don’t need to - I’m here. And you’re not - you’re sick, you have a fever, that’s all.” 

Loki’s eyes opened a sliver and clarified slightly, but he was breathing in shallow pants. He seemed to be struggling to process what Steve was saying. He licked his lips and coughed weakly. “Steve?” he said, and Steve let out an unsteady exhale. 

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m here. And you’re - you’re sick, but you’re safe.”

“Sick,” Loki said. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes foggy and dull. “Why...what’s wrong with my magic?” Fear crept into his voice.

“It’s temporary,” Steve said. “Just - it’ll come back.”

Loki’s fists clenched, his breathing quickening. “He took - he _stole -_ I can feel it, Captain, I can feel his power, I need to - I need to destroy it--” Loki started trying to rise and Steve pushed him back down as gently as he could.

“No,” Steve said quickly. “It’s not - it’s not him. It’s to keep you safe.”

Loki stilled, his eyes moving slowly to Steve’s face, and the dawning look of betrayal took Steve’s breath away. “You?” he said. “You...you’re doing this to me?” 

“Just for now,” Steve said urgently, desperately. “Just for now, because it’s your magic that’s making you sick, as soon as you’re better–”

He was interrupted by Loki starting to cough. When he stopped, his eyes were closed, visibly exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, because he felt like he needed to. Loki didn’t answer, just lay there, every breath a struggle.

* * *

Steve hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but apparently he had anyway. He woke up in one of the chairs with a crick in his neck and Thor making pancakes.

“You didn’t wake me up,” Steve said. He looked at Loki, but he seemed to be sleeping. “Has he…”

“He was awake briefly a bit ago,” Thor said quietly. “I managed to get him to drink some water.” His eyebrows pulled together. “He asked for Mother.”

Steve managed not to flinch. He stood up and went to lay a hand on Loki’s forehead. “Better than me,” he said. “He thought I was Doom.” 

Thor’s mouth tightened and then relaxed. “Sit down,” he said. “Eat. You look worn to the bone.” 

“Since you went to all the effort,” Steve said, with a tired attempt at a smile. 

“Do you think it’s working?” Thor asked, after they’d been eating in silence for a little while. 

“He hasn’t gotten any sicker,” Steve said.

“But he hasn’t gotten better, either.” 

“Give it a little more time,” Steve said. “Loki is...he’s fighting.” 

Thor was quiet, looking pensive. “I used to think we were immortal,” he said finally. “That belief made me reckless. And yet I miss it, sometimes.” 

Steve understood that, even if he’d always lived with the awareness of his own mortality. Acute and bitter awareness. But he’d known plenty of people who hadn’t, and envied them sometimes. 

“Now,” Thor said, “everything feels so fragile. And I am afraid.” He shook his head a little, and looked at Steve. “How are you holding up?” 

“Fine,” Steve said automatically, and when Thor just looked at him he ran his fingers through his greasy hair and said, “I’m getting by.” _I just want him to get better. It can’t end like this. Not like this._ Thor didn’t say anything and Steve found himself saying, “I watched my ma die. She got sick - caught it on the ward. She just got sicker and sicker and...never got better.” 

“I am sorry,” Thor said. Steve shook his head.

“I remember what it was like,” he said. “Sitting by her bed and just...not being able to do anything. How helpless I felt. How _useless._ ”

“You aren’t useless,” Thor said. 

“Sure feels like it.” Steve grimaced. “No - sorry. I don’t need to…”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Thor gave him a small smile that didn’t have much of happiness. “I can understand.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, though the gratitude was weak, like most things other than the worry, the fear. The look on Thor’s face suggested he could tell, but he said nothing. Steve sat down and ate the pancakes Thor served him, even if he didn’t have much of an appetite. Thor sat down across from him.

“Loki was sick like this once,” Thor said. “I didn’t remember until now. We were very young, and I didn’t fully understand what was going on. They wouldn’t let me see him, only then Mother woke me in the middle of the night and brought me to his sickroom. I remember thinking he barely looked like my brother. She told me that Loki might be going away soon and I should say goodbye.” Thor’s gaze was distant.

“I don’t remember what I said. But he did get better.” Thor glanced toward Loki on the couch, and then said, “sometimes I almost wonder if Loki’s right and the Norns do wish him ill.”

“If that’s true,” Steve said, “that’d just mean Loki keeps beating them.” 

Thor let out a soft huff of breath. “I suppose it does.”

They ate the rest of the pancakes largely in silence, and Thor left reluctantly. He wasn’t supposed to stay for long periods of time, according to Shuri, in case the disease took hold of him - even weakly. Steve went back over to Loki, smoothing the hair back from his forehead. He stirred with a small, pained noise, taking little gasping breaths that made Steve’s chest ache in sympathy.

Steve hadn’t prayed much in the last few years; his mother would’ve been disappointed. It felt a little lousy doing it now, and it felt a little strange doing it for an alien who had _called_ himself a god. 

Still, he prayed. _Just let him be okay. Let him get through this and get well, it doesn’t matter if he’s angry with me as long as he’s all right._

He remembered Loki saying, a long time ago, barely conscious: _I used to be sick quite frequently. Frigga always sat with me, and ran her fingers through my hair._

Steve sat down and moved Loki’s head into his lap; his head twisted to the side with a faint moan and Steve almost froze, but then he relaxed again. Lips set in that little frown.

Loki’s hair was tangled, curling, unwashed. He’d hate it. Steve combed his fingers gently through it, teasing out some of the tangles. Was it his imagination or did Loki seem to relax? Just a little, but like he registered the feeling and was enjoying it. 

He opened one eye and said something unintelligible. 

“I love you,” Steve said, because it felt like he should. 

“Mm,” Loki said, and then, blurrily but clear enough to understand, “love you.” The open eye closed again and he turned his head, not quite nuzzling into Steve’s thigh.

_Please. Let him be okay._

* * *

In the morning, Loki’s fever was down. _Way_ down, and his color was better. He woke up, asked for water, drank an entire glass and went back to sleep that seemed sounder, less fraught. And the fever kept going down; by noon he felt almost normal.

Steve could have cried with relief. Maybe he wasn’t out of the woods yet, but Loki had turned a corner.

He was going to get better.

Steve called Thor first, then Shuri. Thor barely let him get the words out - _Loki’s on the mend -_ before he cut the connection; Shuri’s relief was audible in her “oh, thank _Bast._ ” 

“Do you think we can stop suppressing his magic?” Steve asked hopefully, knowing the answer before Shuri said it.

“I don’t think it would be a good idea,” she said. “Better isn’t _cured_ and I don’t want to risk a relapse.”

There was a loud knock on the door and Thor’s voice saying, “Steve, it’s me.” 

“I’d better go,” Steve said. “Thor’s here, and I should let everyone else know, too.”

“Right,” Shuri said. “I’ll come by later?” It was a question, rather than a statement, and Steve realized that she was probably thinking what he was, underneath the relief: now that Loki was getting better, he was going to really absorb what they’d done. 

“You’d be welcome,” he said, hoping that she’d be glad to hear it, and hung up. “Come in,” he called to the door, and Thor almost charged through the door, taking a look at Loki, some of the color back in his face, expression less drawn. His shoulders slumped, like he hadn’t quite believed Steve’s assessment before seeing it for himself. 

“Loki,” he said, something aching in his voice, and strode over, dropping down to press a hand to his forehead. Loki stirred a little and opened his eyes.

“Thor?” he said blurrily, and Thor broke into a sunny smile

“Yes,” he said. “It’s me.” 

“Steve,” Loki said, not quite a question.

“He’s here too,” Thor said, and moved over so Steve could join him. Loki smiled faintly, though it fell away quickly. 

“Something’s wrong with...with my magic,” he said, eyebrows furrowing, and at least he wasn’t panicking. 

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “It’s just...because you were sick. It’ll come back.”

Loki shook his head. “Feels like…” He swallowed, and his eyes widened, but then he broke off into coughing that seemed to exhaust him. 

But at least he didn’t come back to the subject, apparently busy focusing on breathing. There was guilt for being relieved by that, but Steve told himself that it was better to wait to confront the issue until Loki was stronger. 

And he would get stronger. 

He’d be _okay._

Like he’d been the one drowning in his own lungs, Steve felt like he could finally breathe again.

* * *

By the end of the day, Loki was sitting up. His breathing didn’t sound great, and he still coughed, but it was an undeniable improvement. He ate some bland soup and greeted the troop of well-wishers who came through, and did not glance once at the machine still humming away on the end table. 

Steve was quite certain he knew it was there, and knew what it was, but he said nothing - and the longer he said nothing, the jumpier Steve got. 

Finally, when they were alone, Loki folded his hands in his lap and said, “did I hurt you?” 

Steve blinked. “I - what? No!”

Loki made a sort of ‘hmm’ noise. “Someone else?” 

“No,” Steve said firmly. “ _No._ Why would you think that?” 

“Then why,” Loki said, and his voice was too carefully measured in a way Steve only belatedly recognized as dangerous, “did you feel it was necessary to put bindings on my magic?” 

Steve looked down and took a deep breath. “Because it was killing you,” he said. Loki turned his head slightly to look at Steve, though his expression was unreadable. “The disease...it was using your magic to get stronger. To reproduce.” 

Loki’s face didn’t so much as twitch. “I see,” he said. “I suppose it was the princess who built it?” 

Steve hesitated, but Loki had already guessed, and he’d know if Steve lied. “She did,” he said. “But once you’re well...she said you can destroy it, and the plans. No one else knew what she was doing.”

Loki made a sort of “hm” noise. He seemed to be thinking, but what Steve couldn’t say. The hair on the back of his neck prickled. 

“I see,” he said again at length. “So it is to be left working until you are certain the disease is purged from my system.” 

Steve nodded, slowly. “I don’t want...you were really sick,” he said. “For a little while…” _I didn’t know if you’d get better._ He didn’t say the words, but Loki’s expression softened a little. But not a lot.

“Then I suppose I shall simply have to accept it until you deem enough time to have passed,” Loki said. Steve didn’t know if he liked that phrasing; the _you_ sounded too much like Loki thought he didn’t have a say. But he didn’t want to bring it up right now.

“Hopefully it won’t be too long,” Steve said. 

“Hopefully, indeed,” Loki said. Steve saw his eyes start to drift over toward the machine and then jerk away. There was a new tension in his shoulders, and when Shuri came to visit Loki was cordial but cold.

This, Steve thought, was his least favorite flavor of Loki’s anger: the kind where he retreated back into himself and refused to acknowledge it. 

And it didn’t help that Steve couldn’t really blame him. He’d been angry at Tony for doing the same thing - using Doom’s technology against Loki. He’d been trying to take Loki down, and Steve and Shuri had been trying to save him - but maybe that wasn’t enough of a difference.

“Can I make you some tea?” Steve asked gingerly. Loki glanced at him, face opaque for a long moment before he offered up a faint smile. 

“Please,” he said. “That sounds delightful.”

* * *

Loki’s cough lingered, but overall he only continued to improve. They tentatively turned off the machine suppressing Loki’s magic after a couple more days, and the expression of relief on Loki’s face, the gasp like he was finally getting a full breath of air, made Steve’s heart ache. 

Wanda brought an enormous bowl of soup that Loki wolfed down like he hadn’t eaten a full meal in weeks (which wasn’t all that far from the truth). Sam and Bucky brought a game Sam said was like Risk but more fun; somehow even at half strength Loki managed to wipe the board with them. He only gloated about it a little.

Thor was in and out most often, sometimes accompanied by Jane or Valkyrie, but most of the time not. He hovered anxiously until Loki snapped at him that he wasn’t an _egg_ and Thor needed to stop acting like a broody hen. 

Shuri kept her distance.

And every time Steve tried to bring the conversation carefully around to addressing what had happened, Loki skated deftly around it without batting an eye. 

He might have been all right with that - with leaving the whole subject alone - if it weren’t for the fact that he could feel that it was _there._ The elephant in the room that only seemed to get bigger the more Loki refused to talk about it. 

Steve didn’t exactly _want_ to, but…

“Are you going to keep avoiding Shuri forever?” he asked.

Loki didn’t look up from the book he was reading. “Possibly.”

Steve hadn’t expected that direct of an answer. “Do you want to talk about why?”

“Not particularly.” Loki glanced up at Steve and raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to take on the role of her advocate? We could have a debate, but you won’t change my mind.” 

Steve breathed out slowly. “She saved your life,” he said. Loki went very still for a moment, and then closed his book.

“She made an abomination and used it against me,” he said. “For a good cause, of course. It always is. Until it isn’t.” 

Steve tensed. “You don’t really think that she’ll hurt you.” 

“I don’t know what to think.” Loki exhaled harshly through his nose. “I am not going to _attack_ her.” 

“Just hurt her feelings.” Steve paused, and then said, “and what about me?”

Loki’s expression smoothed out. “What about you?” 

“I was the one who made the call,” Steve said. “Told Shuri to do it. She wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t agreed. But that’s - fine?” 

Loki blinked slowly, and then stood up, turning away and walked over to one of the windows. 

“No,” he said. “It isn’t.” 

Steve felt himself flinch like Loki had slapped him. He swallowed hard and said, “but you’re not avoiding me.” 

“That is so.” Loki was quiet for several moments, then continued. “That does not mean that I find it easy to be...that there is not a part of me that wonders, _how easy a choice is, once made, to make again._ ”

Steve sucked in a breath. “You think I’d–”

“No. Yes.” Loki didn’t turn. “You know me. I doubt as easily as I breathe. I have told myself, again and again, that it is fear, not reason. That you would not, would never, use something like - _that_ against me, unless in direst need.”

“But,” Steve said quietly.

Loki shook his head. “There is no _but._ Only whispers. Shadows without substance. I know that.” 

“Do you?” Steve asked softly. Loki bowed his head.

“Most of the time.” 

“But not always.” Steve swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. “If there’d been another way - if I could’ve thought of another way…”

“I know.”

Steve closed his eyes. Some part of him thought bitterly _what do you think I should have done_ and _if it’d been you watching me die would you have done less,_ but that...wasn’t the point. “I...understand that you’re upset,” he said. “And that’s fine. Do you think…” _you can forgive me?_ No, that wasn’t fair to ask.

Loki turned around to face him and smiled, though it didn’t look happy, exactly.

“Are you asking if I will forgive you?” he said. “Of course I can. And I have.”

“And Shuri?” Steve asked. Loki exhaled. 

“That is...harder. That she built that - _thing_ so quickly means she’d already considered it, at least a little. And could do it again.” 

“She just wanted to help,” Steve protested. “And she did. If she hadn’t…”

“I am aware.” Loki’s jaw tightened briefly and then relaxed. “I’ll...speak with her. And endeavor not to be...harsh.” Steve supposed that was all he could ask. He nodded, slowly.

“I get the feeling,” he said softly after a moment, “that there’s something more you want to say.”

Loki paused, and then sighed. “I know why you did it,” he said, “and I cannot...hold it against you, in truth, particularly considering that you saved my life. But I still feel as though none of you truly understand what it means. What my magic is to me, and how it feels when I cannot reach it.”

“Can you explain it?” Steve asked. Loki started rubbing his palm with his thumb in a familiar gesture of agitation.

“I’ve compared it to a limb,” Loki said. “A piece of my body. But it is...more than that. It is knitted into my core, entangled with every part of me. It is the air filling my lungs and the blood in my veins. There is no place where I end and my magic begins.” He paused. “What Victor did...what Stark did, what Shuri did. It is as though someone has reached inside me and stolen half my life. It feels like suffocating. It feels like someone has taken my heart from my chest and replaced it with a stone. It is…”

Loki fell quiet, and Steve waited in silence, his throat tight. 

“There is a reason that, even when Odin would have locked me away forever, he did not try to strip away my magic,” Loki said. “It can be done. Asgard has the means. But it is very rare for a mage to survive it, and those that do seldom live for long.” Steve felt ill, briefly, and it must have shown because Loki added quickly, “that...that act is deeper, more complete, than anything those here have accomplished yet.”

“Yet,” Steve said. Loki inclined his head.

“Yet.” 

The silence hung between them for what felt like a long time. Steve swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t...understand. Maybe I still don’t. And I can’t say I regret it. But...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to apologize,” Loki said, and there was a strange urgency in his voice. “I just want you to know. Magic is…” he licked his lips. “My magic is the one thing that has always been mine, and mine alone.” He closed his eyes, opened them, and then shook himself. “But enough. We don’t need to talk more about this.” 

“Are you sure?” Steve asked, and Loki, to his relief, actually seemed to consider. He didn’t think he would have trusted the answer if he hadn’t.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m sure.”

Steve’s shoulders fell. He didn’t feel better, exactly - guilt still gnawed at him. But it was gentler than it had been, and in the end...he didn’t think he could have made any other choice. 

“Steve,” Loki said, his voice softer, gentler. “You know that...I trust you. Implicitly. In ways I did not think were possible for me to feel. You have earned that, again and again. That has not changed.” 

It wasn’t until Loki said the words that Steve realized how much he’d needed to hear them. How much he’d needed to know that he hadn’t shattered that faith, when Loki had faith in so little. How much he _needed_ Loki to have that faith in him, even if it didn’t really feel earned. 

“Thank you,” he said, his voice rough. 

“You’re welcome.” Loki turned and drew Steve close, hand on the back of his neck, resting their foreheads together. “As I said, Captain. You are already forgiven. Right now...right now I only need one thing from you.”

“What?” Steve asked. “Anything.” 

Loki pulled back a little and smiled crookedly. “Go sleep,” he said. “You look even more exhausted than I do, and I’m the one who was ill.” 

Steve opened his mouth to say ‘I’m fine,’ caught the quirk of Loki’s eyebrow, and sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I did say ‘anything.’”

“You did.” Loki withdrew the rest of the way. 

“What are you going to do?” Steve asked.

“Eat,” Loki said promptly. “I am _starving,_ and I understand that Wanda brought soup.”

“Might not be good still,” Steve said, “but I’m sure she’d be happy to make more.”

“Perhaps I will ask. Take advantage of her generosity.” Loki smiled, and brushed the backs of his fingers against Steve’s cheek. He was still too thin, circles around his eyes and cheeks hollowed, but the bright spark in his eyes diminished all of that to details. “I might even leave some for you.”

“Speaking of generous,” Steve said, but not seriously, and Loki’s quiet laugh lifted his heart. 

He thought of Thor saying _I wonder if Loki’s right and the Norns do wish him ill._

With help, Loki had managed to win another round. And yet underneath Steve’s relief he couldn’t help but think _he only has to lose one match. And no one stays undefeated forever._

He pushed that away as hard as he could, and told himself to just be grateful. 

* * *

He fell asleep almost immediately. In his dreams he saw the world on fire, and Loki’s body at his feet, empty eyes staring up at nothing. He stumbled back with a cry, and Loki’s ghost was standing in front of him, saying, “did you really think you could save me?” 

Steve woke up with tears on his cheeks. He could hear music in the other room, the clatter of dishes. Wanda’s laugh, and the murmur of Loki’s voice. 

He lay there staring at the ceiling, listening.

 _I won’t lose this,_ he thought. _Not this._

_Not him._


End file.
